


The Gift

by greenteafiend



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crying Keith (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Panic Attacks, Protective Allura (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Protectiveness, Team Voltron Family, hoktril, vulnerable Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 06:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenteafiend/pseuds/greenteafiend
Summary: Lance was officially weirded out. ByKeith. Keith was acting veryweird.But it was asubtlesort of weird that no one else seemed to have noticed, the type of weird that would make the others think thathewas weird for noticing it in the first place.Keith didn’t rise to any of his jabs. Keith didn’t poke fun at him. Keith followed Shiro’s orders to the letter and didn’t pull any dangerous stunts. Keith barely even talked.Lance was going to get to the bottom of it.





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> This is set at the beginning of season 2, sometime before the BoM episode.

**Lance now**

 

 

Lance was officially weirded out. By _Keith_ . Keith was acting very _weird._

But it was a _subtle_ sort of weird that no one else seemed to have noticed, the type of weird that would make the others think that _he_ was weird for noticing it in the first place.

Keith didn’t bicker with him anymore, or do any of the infuriating little things that let Lance know he was agitated. That Lance had managed to get under his skin.  

Keith still stood with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, but his shoulders didn’t tense or creep up towards his ears when Lance ribbed him.

Keith didn’t return any of Lance’s petty little shoves or nudges like he used to. No rough-housing _at all_.

Lance called him nothing but _mullet_ for a whole day and Keith didn’t react, not _once_. He didn’t run an agitated hand through his hair and snidely tell Lance to get his eyes checked because he didn’t have a mullet. He didn’t roll his eyes, or glare, or groan in annoyance.

He didn’t even rise to Lance’s goading on the training deck, failing to take the bait when Lance all but _begged_ for Keith to pit himself against him.

It was sort of driving Lance to distraction, because there was _nothing_ that drove him crazier than being _ignored_ , and the way Keith was acting… even though _ostensibly_ he wasn’t _actually_ ignoring Lance, it _felt_ a lot like being ignored. Like nothing he did was impacting Keith at all, like none of their interactions were really _touching_ him.  

 _Why_ exactly Lance wanted Keith’s attention, he wasn’t willing to examine.

He _was_ , however, willing to act out to provoke the responses he was used to. The response, the _acknowledgement,_ that he wanted.

He would make Keith’s new cool, calm, facade crack, and expose… _whatever_ it was exactly that Keith thought he was trying to do.

  


 

 

 

The perfect opportunity presented itself when he happened upon Keith fixing himself a cup of coffee one morning. Or rather, a cup of the sludgy brown liquid that passed for coffee in space. Keith turned when he entered the room, and it was as if there was nothing behind his eyes when he looked at Lance, and Lance _hated_ it. The _indifference._  

     “ _Move_ , Mullet,” he snapped.

Without a word, Keith actually moved to make room for him at the kitchen counter, and it was _so wrong_ . Keith _never_ just _bent_ to anyone’s will, let alone Lance’s. Keith should have snapped at him and pushed back, glared and snarled something like ‘ _make me_ ,’ and then Lance would snip back, and their banter would continue.

The urge to grab Keith and just _shake_ him and demand that he drop the act was so strong that Lance pulled a Keith and did something very rash, and very immature.

He poked Keith’s cup of coffee with a single finger, nudging it slowly where it was set down on the countertop, until it was teetering on the edge.

And then, looking Keith right in the eye, he poked the cup one last time to send it over the edge and crashing to the floor.

The cup shattered, and coffee went everywhere.

     “Oops,” said Lance defiantly.

Keith just looked at him. No yelling, no glaring, just eyes that looked dead. Keith was the Red Paladin, where the _fuck_ was his fire?

     “You better clean that up,” he said, tone challenging. He willed Keith to tell him to fuck off. To shove him, refuse, _anything_.

Keith didn’t do any of those things.

He calmly padded over to the sink and opened the cupboard underneath it to pull out a dustpan, and Lance was about to lose his shit over how _wrong_ it was.

Before he could, Allura spoke out of the blue, surprising the shit out of him.

     “ _Lance_.” Her voice was heavy with reproach. Lance froze where he stood, and turned towards the doorway.  

With her arms crossed like that, and her face pinched into a disapproving scowl, Allura forcibly reminded Lance of his mother in that moment. He could practically hear her stern voice echoing in his head.

_Lance! Pídele perdón de tu hermano ahora mismo!_

     “What is going on here?” Allura demanded.

     “Lance knocked my coffee cup on the floor on purpose, and now the cup is broken,” said Keith bluntly.

     “Is that true?” asked Allura, turning her disappointed, otherworldly gaze on him.   

     “Well-- well Keith is acting _weird!_ ” blurted Lance. Allura was not impressed by his reply.

     “As a Paladin of Voltron, I expect you to behave in a manner that befits your position. Purposefully knocking over a teammate’s drink is petty and childish and I expect better from you, Lance.”

     Ouch.

Usually these sorts of dressing-downs came from Shiro, and although Shiro’s disappointed looks were so powerful they had the ability to make Lance’s gut clench in shame, it was somehow _worse_ coming from Allura.  

     “ _You_ broke the cup, _you_ clean it up, Lance,” she ordered, before sweeping away.

     “You knew she was watching, didn’t you?” Lance snapped at Keith once the door swished shut on Allura’s retreating form.

     “I didn’t,” replied Keith blandly.

     “Whatever, gimme that,” he snapped petulantly, snatching the dustpan and shovel off of him.  

  


 

 

 

‘Odd’ Keith continued to behave oddly, but after being dressed down so soundly by Allura, it took Lance some time to work up the gumption to actually mention it to anyone else.

     “Say, Hunk,” he began.

     “Can you pass me that wrench?” interrupted Hunk. He and Coran were still intermittently working on fixing the mangled Red Lion. Keith had crashed into a planet on their last mission back when he was still being normal, (i.e. contrary and reckless), and because the man never did anything in half measures, he’d crashed _hard._

     “Sure.” Lance handed Hunk the tool he’d pointed to.

     “What’s up?” asked Hunk.

     “Have you noticed… Keith acting… weird?” asked Lance haltingly, face all pinched up like the words tasted sour.  

     “Uhh, weird how?” asked Hunk, putting the wrench to use.

Lance made a frustrated sound.  

     “If anyone’s acting weird, it’s you,” piped up Pidge from where she was sitting cross-legged in front of her laptop.

Lance pouted; he hadn’t even thought she was listening. She had her big headphones on which usually meant that anything you said was totally ignored by her while she clacked away at her keyboard. More than once, Shiro had needed to physically pull the headphones away from her ears to tell her to come get dinner.

     “I thought those were noise-cancelling,” he snipped. Pidge had bragged about having upgraded them herself on more than one occasion.  

     “They are, they’re just turned off at the moment. Besides, they aren’t stupidity cancelling,” she teased.

     “Or _delusion_ cancelling,” added Hunk slyly.

     “Heh, good one, Hunk,” crowed Pidge, slapping her own thigh.

     “I’m not delusional! _Or_ stupid! Keith _is_ acting weird!” Lance cried, voice edging dangerously close to hysterical territory.  

     “Keith is being his normal anti-social self. _Maybe_ lately he’s been like, eight or nine percent more helpful, and less snappy, but it’s nothing to have an existential crisis over, Lance,” said Pidge dismissively.  

     “Yeah, we’re meant to be _bonding_ according to Allura, anyways,” said Hunk, and then both he and Pidge snickered about the word ‘bonding.’

     “You guys suck,” Lance declared sourly.

  


 

 

 

Over the next few days Lance watched Keith’s interactions with the others carefully. He was quiet, only joining in on their conversations when called on by someone to offer his thoughts and insights. He followed Shiro and Allura’s orders in training to the letter, and to Lance’s immense frustration, he couldn’t find anything about Keith’s behavior to fault. At least, where the _others_ were concerned. With _him_ , Keith was still being odd.   

Oddly passive, and non-combative. But what could Lance say?

Shiro, Keith won’t bicker with me anymore, so there must be something wrong with him? Keith doesn’t mess with me anymore and I don’t like that he isn’t giving me attention? Keith doesn’t react when I try to tease him, why is he ignoring me?

It didn’t feel right, but maybe… Maybe this was what Keith was like now? Quiet, and passive. Watchful. Maybe his fire had burnt out, he _had_ nearly died on their last mission, maybe that had given him some sort of new perspective on life…

So Lance backed off for a few days, thinking that it would probably be better to accept this new normal...

And then he overheard Keith and Shiro talking. About _him._

     “-To see you’re taking to heart what I asked you about Lance, Keith,” Shiro was saying.

Lance was only walking by the training deck, he had no intention of heading inside, but when he heard his name, his curiosity was piqued and he couldn’t convince himself not to stop and listen.

They shouldn’t have left the door wide open, and spoken in loud carrying voices if they didn’t intend for anyone standing just out in the corridor to be able to hear, so _there._

     “It’s fine, Shiro,” said Keith, trying to brush off whatever Shiro had said.

     “No really, _listen_ , Keith. The animosity between the two of you was really putting a strain on the team’s dynamics, but you’ve been so mature. I’m so glad you managed to put all of that aside.”

     “Only because you asked me to,” replied Keith.

_Strain on the team’s dynamics…_

_Only because you asked me to…_

Something dangerously hot was beginning to boil Lance’s bones. His hands clenched into shaking fists at his sides, and something prickled wetly behind his eyes.

     “But _still._ Remember what I said when we were stranded on that planet? You’ve got what it takes to lead one day, Keith. I’m so proud of you,” continued Shiro.

_I’m so proud of you…_

Shiro was proud of Keith for dealing with _him_. They’d spoken behind his back about him like he was a problem, a burden.

Sure, lately things had been weird, and especially tense on his side, what with Keith being all _odd_ , but before that… They were rivals turned teammates weren’t they? They bickered, and argued, but ultimately had each other’s backs, didn’t they?

It was as if Keith had changed the rules of their rivalry without telling him, and it didn’t feel good. Lance felt sick, and hollow.

Their voices drew closer to the door Lance was listening at, so he beat a hasty retreat, but the conversation weighed heavily on his mind.

  


 

 

 

Lance had _intended_ to let sleeping dogs lie. He could be mature. He could stop straining the team’s dynamics. He could… he could make Shiro proud, too.

He’d intended to try and show Shiro that _he_ was leadership material too, because apparently the thing that made _Keith_ leadership material was ignoring him, and Lance could do that. He could ignore Keith…

Except he _couldn’t._  

That sense of oddness, of something not being quite _right,_ it stuck with him.

Everything came to a head exactly two movements since their last mission.

     “Would you mind going to fetch Keith for us, Lance?” asked Coran.

Lance was hanging out with Coran and Hunk while they puzzled over the Red Lion. Although Red had suffered an enormous amount of damage when Keith had crashed, he should have been up and running by now. According to all the tests Hunk and Coran had run, he _appeared_ back to normal, but he didn’t _behave_ normally.

 _Twice_ now Coran had needed to remove one of Red’s power crystals to force a power-down, because the minute he’d come online, Red had gone _haywire_.  

The first time, Coran had said “not to worry, I just need to recalibrate the fuel coupling. I _think._..”

The second time, he’d said “I need a glass of nunvil,” because Red had nearly torn a hole in the side of the castle before Coran managed to switch him off.

 _This_ time, Coran said “I think the Red Lion will react more calmly if Keith is here.”

     “Fiiiine, I’ll go get him,” said Lance, in the whiniest voice he could muster, rolling to his feet.

     “He’s probably on the training deck,” piped up Hunk, even though he really didn’t need to tell Lance that because it was common knowledge that the training deck was generally where you could find Keith if you were looking for him.

When he arrived at the training deck however, it was empty. _Of course_ the one time Lance was actually looking for him, Keith wasn’t there. Lance checked the kitchen next, and then he headed towards their sleeping quarters. As far as he could tell, those were the only places Keith frequented in the castle, along with Red’s hangar.

He knocked a rhythm into Keith’s door, and called Keith’s name.

A moment later it slid open, and there Keith was, staring at him expectantly.

     “What were you doing in your room?” blurted Lance suspiciously, eyes narrowing.

     “Nothing,” answered Keith. There was nothing in his eyes again too, and Lance _hated_ it, it wasn’t right.

     “You were sitting in your room doing nothing?” replied Lance skeptically. “Don’t you like, _live_ on the training deck?”

     “Shiro told me to take it easy,” answered Keith.

 _Shiro_ told Keith to take it easy, _Shiro_ told Keith to get along with Lance.

     “Since when do you do everything Shiro says, Mr. Hotshot,” said Lance, folding his arms grumpily.

     “Shiro is the Black Paladin, he’s the leader. We’re meant to do everything he says,” replied Keith placidly.  

Since when did Keith say anything _placidly?_

     “We’re meant to do everything he says?” echoed Lance, eyebrows rising so high they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline simply because he couldn’t believe he was hearing these words out of Keith’s mouth.

Keith respected Shiro more than probably anyone, but he still couldn’t follow his orders to save himself. _Literally._

On their last mission he’d nearly _died_ because he’d thought he could take on a Galra destroyer by himself, an action that went _directly_ against what Shiro’s orders had been.

Before that he’d nearly died fighting Zarkon even though Coran had been _screaming_ at him to stand down.

Heck, in almost every memory Lance had of Keith at the Garrison he was breaking formation during group drills, and being generally unruly and rash.  

This wasn’t right.

     “Okay, that’s it. What in the quiznak is going on with you, Keith?!” cried Lance, throwing his hands up.

Keith tilted his head to the side questioningly, but his expression remained impassive.

     “I don’t think you’re using that word correctly.” It was exactly something Keith would say, but the tone was all wrong. Keith sounded almost pleasant, like he was trying to be polite and helpful.

     “Are you messing with me?” demanded Lance, hackles raising.

     “No,” replied Keith.

     “I don’t believe you!” Lance snapped, pointing accusingly in Keith’s face. “You’re only acting off with _me!_ What gives?!”

     “It’s… nothing,” said Keith, a flicker of a shadow passing over his expression.  

     “It _isn’t_ nothing, you don’t sound like yourself. You talk to me like-like you’re _dead_ inside.”

     “I’m just being polite, Lance,” said Keith politely.

It was as if the calmer Keith acted, the more worked up it made Lance. He didn’t even understand it himself, Lance just _needed_ this awful facade to break.  

     “I want you to _stop it!_ ” he growled, “it’s _weird_ , and it’s driving me nuts!”

     “I can’t,” answered Keith apologetically. He even looked apologetic, which only made Lance madder.

     “This is because of Shiro, isn’t it?” asked Lance, voice dangerously low. “I overheard you guys the other day, you know. He thinks you’re leadership material,” Lance sneered.  

     “Yes, he does,” said Keith simply, “he wants me to pilot Black in the event that something happens to him.”  

This was horribly familiar. Keith having everything Lance wanted, achieving it naturally and easily, while Lance floundered and clawed his way up in Keith’s shadow. The worst part was that Keith didn’t even seem like he wanted it. _Any_ of it. Fighter class, the respect of their professors at the Garrison, future leadership of Voltron...

     “Is that even what you want?” asked Lance sourly.

     “No, I don’t want anything to happen to Shiro,” said Keith. It was the least odd thing he’d heard Keith say since he’d started acting strangely.

     “Why you?” said Lance. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, it was only meant to be a rhetorical question, but Keith answered regardless.

     “I’m the best fighter, and the best pilot,” he said bluntly, like he was stating facts.

     “You think you’re a better pilot than me?” asked Lance.

     “I know I am.” Keith didn’t sound mocking, or like he was bragging. It might not have felt like such a punch in the gut to Lance if he had.  

     “You’re such a--” Lance cut himself off with a frustrated sound, blinking rapidly as something hot stung at the corners of his eyes.

     “Whatever, go jump out of an airlock, Keith,” he snapped.

Keith blinked.

     “Okay.”

Keith slipped past him, and carried on walking down the corridor, leaving Lance floundering at how abruptly he’d left. In no time at all he turned a corner, and was lost from Lance’s sight.

Okay? Okay _what?_

Suddenly Lance remembered the cup of coffee. ‘ _Clean it up_ ,’ he’d said, and what had Keith done? He’d grabbed the dustpan and shovel...

A dark inkling twisted in Lance’s stomach. Surely not...

 _Surely_ Keith knew that Lance didn’t actually intend for him to jump out of an airlock? And even if that _was_ what Lance had meant, surely Keith _wouldn’t?_ It was absurd to even _think_ that he would just because Lance had told him to, but a tiny voice at the back of Lance’s head whispered _‘what if he did?’_   

An icy shiver wracked Lance’s body, and he wrapped his arms around himself as he remembered his own brush with the airlock when the castle had gone rogue. He remembered his panic, the visceral fear and certainty that this was it for him. He was going to be sucked into space, and he’d never see his family again. They’d never know that he met his end alone and afraid, suffocating in the frigid cold of space.

It had been such a near thing, he’d felt the vacuum tearing at his clothes while he clung to the side of the room… and then Keith had pulled him back.  

Lance’s stomach roiled, and his skin prickled with discomfort. His gut was telling him that something was very wrong…

He started down the corridor, and paused when he got to the elevator. Keith was nowhere in sight. There were any number of places he could have decided to go to; the hangar, (even though Lance had neglected to pass along Coran’s message), the pool, the training deck, the bridge… plus the airlocks.

Lance’s hands started to sweat, and his heart pounded loudly in his ears. He was anxious. It was a ridiculous thing to be anxious about because when he tried to think about it rationally, it just didn’t fit. Keith _wouldn’t_ throw himself out of an airlock just because Lance said to in the heat of the moment.

And yet… Keith _shouldn’t_ have cleaned up a broken coffee mug Lance had broken on purpose.

Lance got on the elevator and picked the floor where the airlocks were, feeling foolish as the elevator started to move. What Lance was doing was akin to a child checking in their closet for monsters; there was _never_ going to be a monster in the closet, but you still needed to _check_ . He could kick himself later for being so dumb, _after_ he verified that Keith wasn’t throwing himself out of the airlock.

The elevator came to a smooth stop, and the door swished open...

Shock hit Lance like a knife in the gut, and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

He saw a flash of dark hair and the red of Keith’s jacket, just for a moment, because then he stepped forwards out of sight into the alcove that Lance _knew_ was the airlock.

_Keith was standing in the fucking airlock._

     “ _Keith!_ ” Lance shrieked, hideous fear burning through his veins. And then he was moving, running on instinct and adrenaline before he had time to think.

     “ _Keith!_ ”

The door slid shut in Lance’s face, but he barreled right into it, thumping both his fists against the glass.

Keith’s back was to him, he faced the outside. He had one hand outstretched towards the control panel, inches away from a touch that would suck him out into space. His hand was shaking, moving closer…

     “Keith! What are you doing?! _Stop!_ ” Lance screamed.

Miraculously, Keith’s hand stilled, before dropping limply to his side.

Lance impatiently slammed the button to open the door separating him and Keith. The second it was open, he seized Keith and physically dragged him out, probably holding his wrist hard enough to bruise.

He hit the button to close the door on the airlock again, and then he turned to face Keith.

Lance was panting, his heart was beating wildly in his chest, and he could feel that his cheeks were wet with tears he hadn’t even realized that he’d shed.

In contrast, Keith was just standing there quietly, _passively_ , staring at his boots with his hair obscuring his face.

It was as if it was _Lance_ who had just nearly died, not Keith, judging by their reactions.

     “What the _fuck_ , Keith.” Lance’s throat was tight, and his voice was strangled. “What the hell was that?!”  

     “I… I don’t know what to say,” Keith whispered.

He was trembling all over, Lance could feel it where he was holding him, and he could see it in the set of his shoulders.

     “You tried to jump out of the airlock. Why, Keith, _why_ would you do that?” Lance demanded, gripping Keith by the shoulders and shaking him so he would look him in the eye.

Keith’s expression was impassive, but his cheeks were wet too. Tears dripped out of the corners of his eyes and down his face, a watery crack in the bland facade Keith wore.  

     “Because… because you told me to,” he replied. Lance blinked furiously as fresh tears welled up in his own eyes.

     “I wasn’t serious! _Jesus_ , Keith, do you _want_ to die?”  

     “... No,” Keith whispered.

Lance was way out of his depth with this.

He gripped Keith’s wrist tightly. He _needed_ to, to assure himself that he’d been in time and that Keith was here with him, safe. To make sure Keith couldn’t try to throw himself to his own death again.  

     “Come on,” he said, tugging Keith back towards the elevator. He pressed the button for the bridge, and once they arrived he headed straight for the castle’s PA system.

Keith followed the pressure Lance exerted on his wrist like an obedient shadow, and it made Lance’s stomach twist horribly, but he didn’t dare let go.

     “Everyone, I need you to come to the bridge _now_. It’s urgent,” he said, trying to infuse his voice with as much seriousness and gravity as he could.

Shiro was the first to arrive, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw the way they were standing close together, practically holding hands.    

     “Keith? Lance? What’s going on?” he asked, a hint of a smirk hanging around the shape of his mouth.

His expression faltered when he took in the look on Lance’s face.

     “I’ll explain once everyone’s here,” said Lance shortly, shaking his head.

Allura arrived next, followed closely by Pidge, with Hunk and Coran arriving last.

     “You found number 4!” exclaimed Coran. “Why didn’t you send him down to the hangar? And why are you holding onto him like that?”

Collectively, everyone stared at where Lance’s fingers were wrapped tightly around Keith’s wrist, pointed and questioning.

There was no easy way to say this, so Lance decided to just get it out quickly, like ripping off a bandaid.

     “Keith tried to jump out of the airlock. He-he would have _died_ if I hadn’t caught him.”

Everyone’s reactions were immediate and aghast.

     “ _What?!_ ”

     “Why would he do that?!”

     “Surely not!”

     “Keith,” said Shiro, cutting through everyone else’s exclamations of shock like a hot knife through butter, “is that true?”

     “Yes,” answered Keith emotionlessly. The look that put on Shiro’s face, a mixture of upset and bewilderment, was potent _,_ and it made Lance’s heart hurt.

     “Why?” asked Shiro helplessly.

     “Because Lance told me to,” answered Keith.

     “I wasn’t being serious though! It was _clearly_ something I said off the cuff because I was annoyed, not because I actually wanted him to!” cried Lance defensively.

     “Keith, why did you listen to Lance?” asked Allura.

Keith’s face remained carefully blank for a moment, as if he were considering what he should say.

     “Because I had to,” he answered finally.

     “What do you mean you _had_ to?” asked Shiro sharply.

Keith was trembling again, Lance could _feel_ it, and even though his expression didn’t change, his eyes grew wet again.  

     “I don’t-- I don’t think I can tell you,” he said.

     “What _can_ you tell us?” asked Shiro.  

     “...Myrxia,” said Keith softly.  

     “ _'Myrxia?’_ ” said Lance, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

     “It’s that planet with the creepy white aliens,” explained Hunk, “the one from two movements ago, that was the mission where Red got messed up, and they fixed up Keith…”

Now that Lance considered it, all of the oddness had started after that mission. It had taken the Myrxians two days to return Keith to them, seemingly whole and healed from the crash, and at the time none of them had questioned it…

     “Did they do something to you, Keith?” asked Shiro, echoing the exact question reverberating through Lance’s head.

More tears dripped down Keith’s impassive face.

     “I… I can’t say,” he answered.

     “I’m setting a course for Myrxia,” said Allura abruptly, striding to her control dais.

     “While we’re en route, Coran, take Keith down to the infirmary and run a full diagnostic.”

     “Yes, Princess.”   

  


 

 

 

In the end, everyone bar Allura followed Coran down to the infirmary, and no one said anything when Lance didn’t relinquish his hold on Keith’s wrist.

Keith followed half a step behind him obediently, and Shiro hovered at Keith’s shoulder like a sad, worried shadow.

     “Okay, hop up here, lad and let’s see what’s wrong,” said Coran, patting the seat of the examination chair.

Keith obeyed immediately.

Reluctantly, Lance finally let go of Keith’s wrist. It felt as if he had to pry his fingers free, so stiff they were from all the tension and hanging on so tightly. He stood directly behind the chair, Shiro stood very close to the side, every line of his body screaming worry, while Hunk and Pidge hung further back with matching solemn expressions.

Coran flitted around the room, opening cupboards and muttering to himself about which instruments he should use and how he should calibrate them to compensate for the fact that Keith was human and not Altean.  

     “Aa-ha! This is the one we need,” he said, hurrying back over to Keith with some sort of Altean device.  

     “This is going to measure your vitals, hold your right arm out for me.”

Keith obeyed.

It occurred to Lance that Keith _kept on obeying…_

Coran had Keith hold the device, and then he unfolded another piece which he set on top of Keith’s head like a crown. Instruments in place, he then he took out his datapad and started tapping away. The device in Keith’s hand started to glow.

     “Hmm…” Coran hummed thoughtfully, eyes flicking as he read through the data output. Whatever he read made him frown.

     “What is it?” asked Shiro impatiently.

     “He’s perfectly healthy,” said Coran quickly, “it’s just…”

     "Just _what?_ ”  

     “His heart rate and blood pressure are elevated, and the output of electromagnetic signals from his brain are… well, they’re rather _abnormal._ ”

     “Abnormal how?” Shiro demanded.

     “Please bear in mind that I have a sample size of only _two ;_  baseline data from you and Lance when you were in the pods for your injuries. Here, I’ll show you.”

Coran pressed a button, and a life size projection of a human brain sprang up in front of him.

     “ _This_ area is abnormally active,” he said, manipulating the brain to turn upside down, and lighting up a small section at the base.

     “That’s the amygdala,” piped up Pidge.

     “Also, _this_ area is overactive,” said Coran, flipping the brain back right way up, and lighting up a section on top.

     “Parietal lobe,” said Hunk.

     “So… what does that mean exactly?” asked Lance.

     “The amygdala is involved with processing emotions,” explained Hunk.

     “Okay, and what about the parietal lobe?” asked Lance.  

     “One half is involved with interpreting visual information, and processing language and maths. The other half integrates sensory information, so proprioception-” at the blank look on Lance’s face, Hunk amended himself “-like, spatial awareness, and touch and stuff.” Hunk frowned thoughtfully. “What could it mean that _those_ areas are abnormally active?” he wondered aloud.

     “Well, the amygdala is also the part of your brain that controls your survival instincts; the fight or flight response. It takes over when you feel threatened. I mean, if it weren’t for the fact that Keith’s so calm, based on data like this I’d guess that the owner of the brain was having a panic attack, or undergoing some sort of severe distress,” speculated Pidge.   

     “Or it could be the opposite, right? It could be an incandescently happy brain? The emotion being processed doesn’t _have_ to be negative,” said Hunk optimistically.

     “Considering why we’re here…” Pidge let the sentence trail off, but everyone understood nonetheless: if Keith was happy, why had he tried to throw himself out of the airlock?

     “As for the elevated activity in Keith’s parietal lobe, maybe something’s affecting how he interprets sensory information?” suggested Pidge.  

     “Good point, Pidge, because that includes visual input. Maybe he got confused, or mixed up about where he was.”

     “I just hope it isn’t pain,” said Pidge, biting her lip.

     “Guys, we should probably stop talking about him like he isn’t here,” injected Lance.

     “Keith, can you tell us how you feel?” interrupted Shiro, putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

     “Scared,” answered Keith in that frighteningly bland tone.

     Lance could tell from the looks on everyone’s faces that Keith’s answer had cut them down to the quick just as much as it had him.

     “What are you scared of?” asked Shiro, gentle and strangled.

     “How… how you’ll react.”

     “ _We’re approaching Myrxia, what is Keith’s status?_ ” interrupted Allura over the PA.

     “He… he isn’t in any immediate danger, Princess,” answered Coran hesitantly.   

 _“Good. I’ll radio the Myrxians now to set up a meeting,”_ she replied, before cutting the line.

     “How we’ll react to what?” asked Lance.

     “... How you’ll react when the Myrxians explain,” said Keith.

     “Explain _what_ , Keith?” asked Shiro.

     “I can’t tell you, they have to.”

Shiro sighed heavily, and took his hand off Keith’s shoulder.

     “I think we all better suit up for this meeting, I think it’s safe to say we shouldn’t trust the Myrxians,” he said.

     “You don’t need to tell me that, last time we were there they gave me bad vibes,” said Hunk, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering theatrically.

     “I’ll take that back, Keith,” said Coran, taking the device Keith was holding before carefully removing the headpiece.

Standing behind Keith as he was, Lance saw something on the back of Keith’s neck as his hair shifted...

     “Wait, what’s that—?” Lance reached out and gently brushed the ends of Keith’s hair aside to expose the nape of his neck...

He gasped in shock.    

Attached to the skin to the top of Keith’s spine, just below his hairline, was something that looked like a fat metallic leech.

Lance felt Shiro’s presence behind him, heard his gasp when he _saw._

     “Oh my…” exclaimed Coran weakly.

     “What _is_ that?” asked Hunk.

     “That definitely looks like Myrxian tech…” said Pidge.

Lance thought about the smashed cup of coffee. He thought about the airlock, and the docile way Keith had acquiesced to every single one of Coran’s instructions. In fact, he couldn't recall Keith disobeying _once_ since he’d started behaving oddly…

     “Keith, raise your right hand,” he ordered hesitantly.

     “ _Lance-_ ” Shiro began to chastise, but then Keith did it. Without a word, he raised his right hand in front of himself.

_Oh no._

     “Keith, say _‘Coran Coran the gorgeous man.’_ ”

     “Coran Coran the gorgeous man,” repeated Keith dutifully. Those ridiculous words in Keith’s deadpan voice should have been hilarious, but they only served to underline the wrongness that had been apparent to Lance from the very beginning.  

Suddenly, Lance _knew_.

     “It’s— _i_ _t’s —_”

     “ _I_ _t’s making him obey,_ ” breathed Pidge, finishing Lance’s thought and comprehending the situation more quickly than anyone else.

     “You… you can put your hand down,” said Lance softly, and Keith’s arm fell limply to his side.

     “Did they do this to you on Myrxias?” asked Shiro, face like a storm cloud. Cold and angry.

Keith nodded.

     “Sweet quiznak, that means it’s been _two movements_ ,” said Coran faintly. “The Red Lion—He isn’t _broken_. He must be responding to Keith’s distress!”

Lance could tell that all of them were thinking about how the Red Lion had nearly torn a hole in the castle before Coran performed a forced shut down… If _that_ was how the Red Lion reacted, what was going on inside Keith’s head? Two whole movements Keith had been like this, with that thing in his neck, and Lance had been the only one to notice that something wasn’t right...  

     “We have to get it out of him!” cried Hunk tearfully.

Lance brushed his fingertips over the smooth metal, warm from Keith’s body heat, and the effect was instantaneous.

Keith’s entire body tensed up, and he let out a broken little gasp of pain. Lance yanked his fingers back as if they’d been burnt.

     “Sorry! Did that hurt you?”

     “Yes,” Keith whispered.

     “Let me—let me try connecting to it remotely, m-maybe I can deactivate it that way,” said Pidge, voice shaking as she pulled out her data pad.  

They all waited in terse silence as she tapped away…

     “I—I can’t connect,” said Pidge tremulously. “It’s wired directly into his brain, I don’t want to break in aggressively because I—I don’t know what that’ll do to him.”

Everyone looked to Shiro, because in these sorts of situations he was the one they turned to. He was the leader, the one who knew what to do, but in that moment, with his jaw tight and his eyes hard, Shiro didn’t look like his usual level-headed self. He looked like the champion of a Galran arena, ready to tear something limb from limb.

     “Everyone, suit up,” he ordered.

     “Hang on, what are going to do with Keith?” asked Lance.

Keith had stood the minute the order had left Shiro’s lips, but paused at Lance’s words.

Lance anxiously reached out to snag Keith’s wrist, his hold much more gentle this time. He was reluctant to let Keith out of his sight after what had nearly happened.

     “What if he—we can’t leave him alone,” he said firmly.

     “Should we really be taking him back down to Myxria, though? If they’re the ones that did… whatever this is to him?” asked Hunk, wringing his hands.   

     “If they did this, they’re the ones that can tell us how to reverse it,” reasoned Pidge.

     “Keith? What do you think? How do you feel about going down to Myxria?” asked Shiro softly.

     “Terrified,” he replied. That was the second time Keith had said something like that, expressed a vulnerable emotion that Lance wouldn’t have previously thought him capable of.

     “You know we won’t let them doing anything to you, right?” he said.

     “They already did,” replied Keith.

     “We’ll make them reverse it,” said Shiro fiercely.

     “Everyone likes me better like this… except Lance,” Keith whispered, a few more tears squeezing out of the corners of his emotionless eyes.

The shattered expressions on everyone’s faces were hard for Lance to look at.

     “Would… would you rather stay in the castle?” asked Shiro. His fists were clenched by his sides, and he looked one small step from snarling at someone, but for Keith his voice was soft and soothing.

     “I… I don’t know. It’s not safe, I don’t want this to happen to any of you,” Keith replied.

     “Do you think they’re likely to try something? Should we be going in with our lions?” asked Hunk.

     “I don’t think they will,” said Keith, “it’s just _me_ they have a problem with.”

     “Why do they have a problem with _you_ specifically? You nearly got yourself killed protecting their city!” cried Lance.

Watching Keith fall and being completely helpless to stop it was one of the worst things that had happened to Lance in space, and he’d been _blown up_ before so that was saying something.

And then Keith said something crazy, something utterly outrageous.

     “Because I’m Galra.”

Everyone just stared at him for a moment, as if to confirm that Keith didn’t have purple skin and yellow eyes. Didn’t have sharp teeth and long claws.

Lance might have thought he was cracking a joke if the circumstances were different.

     “... Come again?” said Hunk.

     “That’s why they—on Myxria they said that I’m Galra,” said Keith.

     “They think you’re _Galra?”_ said Hunk.

     “That’s ridiculous!” cried Pidge.

     “Have they even _seen_ a Galra before?” huffed Lance.

     “Why did they think that?” asked Shiro.

     “Not sure,” answered Keith. “I think they must have ran tests when I was injured… they think I’m part Galra… I think they’re right.”

     “But how would that even be possible?” exclaimed Hunk.

     “I’ve never met my mother,” Keith replied. “She abandoned me when I was a baby… she could have been Galra. It would explain a lot.”

     “Keith...” Shiro looked stricken. “What do you mean?”

     “I mean, I’ve never been quite right, have I? No one wanted me after my dad died, none of the foster families, I even got kicked out of the Garrison. Too violent, too angry, too hot-headed. No matter how hard I try I can never connect with anyone, never make friends, and it must be because subconsciously people _know._ They can feel there’s something wrong, and it must be because I’m Galra.”      

Angry. Hot-headed. Dropout. How many times had Lance thrown those words carelessly in Keith’s direction?

Keith was trembling again, Lance could feel it where he was still holding onto his wrist. Despite the fact that his expression looked carved from marble, as blank as ever, tears dripped in a steady stream from the corners of his eyes.

     “ _Keith,_ ” croaked Shiro, blinking furiously as his eyes became glassy. Lance didn’t know what was worse, what Keith had said, or Shiro’s heartbroken reaction to it.   

     “Keith, _we’re_ your friends,” said Hunk tremulously.   

     “Because of Voltron,” Keith answered.

     “That’s not true!” cried Pidge tearfully, sniffing and scrubbing furiously at her face.  

Suddenly, the castle shuddered, and through the infirmary porthole window, Lance saw that the usual blackness of space had given way to multicolored streaming lights; Allura had opened a wormhole and they were passing through.

Moments later it was over, and the porthole’s view reverted back to the blackness of space with a smattering of pinprick-like stars.

     “ _Paladins, we are approaching Myxria. Get ready to disembark, a party from the Myxrian senate will be meeting us_ ,” announced Allura.

     “I’ll...I’ll go appraise Allura of the situation,” said Coran, looking older than Lance had ever seen him before.

     “Keith,” he said, pausing at the door. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we’re very fond of you. There’s nothing wrong with you, my boy.”

Allura’s announcement, and the hiss of the door swishing shut behind Coran seemed to bring Shiro out of his misery and anger, and back to himself.

     “We’re gonna fix this, Keith,” he vowed.

  


 

 

 

In the end, Lance accompanied Keith back to his room seeing as their quarters were next to each other, so they could both change into their armor.

     “Is this okay? Do you mind me… holding onto you like this?” Lance murmured to him as they trudged down to the hangars to meet the others. He’d taken a hold of Keith’s wrist again after they’d changed.

     “I don’t mind,” Keith replied robotically.

     “Are you sure? Is there anything I can do to—to make you more comfortable?” Lance asked, voice strained with stress.

     “Wrist hurts a little,” Keith admitted, making Lance wince. He hadn’t exactly been gentle before…

Lance slid his hand down so they were palm to palm, fingers tangling together.

     “Better?” he asked, giving Keith’s hand a small squeeze.

     “Yes,” answered Keith, squeezing back.

  


 

 

 

Everyone else was waiting for them when they arrived, including Allura. They’d decided that Coran would stay in the castle for backup, and everyone else would fly down in their lions.  

     “Keith!” breathed Allura, rushing over to him the minute he and Lance stepped through the doors. She hovered uselessly for a moment, seeming to struggle to think of something to say or do.

     “Keith, may I please—?” she gestured to the back of his head, and Keith obediently turned around to oblige her.

Allura’s lips pursed at how quickly he’d obeyed, but she stepped in close nonetheless and brushed aside his hair…

The expression as she stared down at the metal sticking out of Keith’s neck... Lance had never seen something like that on her face before. She looked _livid,_ nostrils flared in indignation, blue eyes burning.

     “How _dare_ they…” The words were softly spoken, but they sent a chill up Lance’s spine.

Between Shiro and Allura… Lance was afraid for the Myxrians.

  


 

 

 

They were directed to set down on some rolling violet lawns that backed onto the main city square.

Lance had explored the city a little while Keith had been out the last time they’d been here, and there was something about the place that had struck him as odd. It was creepily… _well kept_.

Not a blade out of place, every building made from either perfectly smooth white marble, or some sort of shiny metal chrome. The city didn’t look truly _lived_ in, it felt like an eerie model of a perfect place.

     ‘ _This place is like a life size dollhouse, man_ ,’ Hunk had said. _‘A dollhouse that hasn’t been painted yet.’_

Plus every citizen wore matching white cloaks with very little to differentiate between them. That was also extremely creepy, what did they have against _color?_

When they exited their lions, a Myxrian was there to greet them. Like every other Myxrian they’d encountered, their skin, hair, and eyes were entirely white. Pigmentless.   

     “Please, come this way. The ceremony will be starting shortly,” they said in an airy voice, before gliding away so smoothly it looked as though they were floating over the grass towards the marble square.

     “What are you talking about? We are _not_ here for any ceremony,” said Allura, unamused. The Myxrian didn’t acknowledge Allura’s words, and they didn’t pause.

     “This way,” they called, leaving the Paladins little choice but to follow.

Shiro and Allura took the lead. Lance and Hunk flanked Keith next, Lance still holding Keith’s hand, and Hunk sticking very closely to his other side, while Pidge brought up the rear.

In the square, there were two long rows of Myxrians in their white cloaks, standing like bookends on opposite sides of the square. They watched silently with their white eyes as the Paladins were led past them across the shiny marble. You could never tell where exactly a Myxrian was looking on account of their eyes being completely white, but Lance could feel their gazes nonetheless.

At the far end of the square, about a hundred yards away, there was a raised dais with more Myxrians waiting. They were standing in a perfectly straight line with their hands folded neatly in front of them, left over right.  

     “This is creepy,” whispered Hunk on the other side of Keith.

     “Tell me about it,” Lance replied under his breath.

As they drew nearer, Lance could make out that the four Myxrians up on the dais had gold bands decorating the arms of their robes, denoting their importance compared to the masses that were silently watching the spectacle unfold.

When they arrived at the bottom, one of the important Myxrians stepped forward, his golden band glinting under the white light of the Myxrian sun.

     “Greetings, Paladins of Voltron. We are overjoyed that you have returned so soon. We are ready to proceed with the gifting ceremony!” they called.

     “We are not here for a gifting ceremony, we are here because of what you did to my Paladin.” Allura’s voice was strong, and held a steely-yet-regal note that always drove home for Lance that Allura was, in fact, a princess.

The Myxrian clapped their hands together in delight, peeling their lips back to reveal a set of pearly white, unnaturally sharp, teeth.

     “You noticed our improvements so quickly?” they replied. Keith’s hand twitched in Lance’s, so Lance tightened his grip.

     “ _I_ _mprovements-?!_ ” Shiro broke formation as if he was going to charge up the steps and seize the nearest Myxrian to _shake_ them in indignation. The only thing that stopped him was Allura catching him with a hand on his chest before he could get too far.

     “Let me handle this,” she said to him sternly, quietly enough that only the Paladins heard her. She stepped deliberately in front of Shiro.

     “What do you mean ‘improvements’?” she demanded.

The smile the Myxrian gave them was terrible.

     “Allow me to explain, we have shared our greatest technological achievement with you. The very cornerstone upon which our society is based, the _hoktril._ ”  

     “And what is a hoktril?” asked Allura.

     “A small device that is implanted during a simple surgical procedure at the base of the subject’s skull. It saps the fighting force from individuals that do not share our vision for Myxria. Their will, you might say. This is our gift to you, the Red Paladin’s _obedience._ ”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Keith two movements ago**

 

Keith was fuming.

He and Lance had argued, _again_ . It had been over something stupid, just like it was _every_ time. It was so stupid that Keith didn’t even remember what had started it. Was it Lance betting him that he and Red couldn’t beat his time on the obstacle course with that smug, challenging, voice that never failed to pique Keith’s ire? Or was it when he snapped at Lance to quit being so clumsy when they went through a maneuver as Voltron, and stumbled?

Either way, Shiro had ended up intervening and sternly telling the two of them to knock it off when they got into it again during the day’s debrief.

     “Keith, can I speak to you?” asked Shiro, approaching him alone once everyone else had left.

     “ _What_ , Shiro?” Keith snapped, not slowing down his furious pacing.

     “I want to talk to you about Lance.”

Keith let out a derisive scoff.

     “He’s _infuriating,_ Shiro. I don’t know what his problem with me is—”

     “Keith, buddy, I once heard you tell him the amount of information in his brain could be stored on a _paper plane —_” said Shiro.

     “Yeah, and then I saved his life by stopping him from getting _ejected out into space!_ Besides, I was being _generous_ when I said that because a paper plane should be plenty of space to remember a bonding moment!” Keith huffed, crossing his arms.

The look Shiro gave him was equal parts amused and fond.

     “Keith, I _know_ that Lance pushes all your buttons, but do you think you could try and get along with him? Be a little more patient?”

     “Why don’t you tell _him_ to get along with _me? He’s_ the one starting everything!” cried Keith. Shiro gave him a look. The ‘you’re better than this’ look. It was very effective; Keith had started off as a juvenile delinquent on the road to nowhere, and then Shiro had given him this very look, and now he was a Paladin of Voltron. Shiro just made you want to be better, which was probably why the Garrison had employed him as a recruiter when he was planetside.  

     “Because I’m asking _you_. It’s really important that all the Paladins of Voltron are able to work together effectively, and it’d be a massive load of my back if you could really put some effort into getting along. It’s putting a strain on everyone.”

Those words combined with the The Look made Keith’s resistance crumble.

     “I’ll try,” he said tersely.

     “That’s all I ask, Keith,” said Shiro, clapping him on the shoulder.

A moment later the alarm blared, and Allura’s voice rang through the ship, calling them to the control room. Shiro and Keith exchanged a look and headed up.

  


 

 

 

     “We are receiving a distress call from Myrixia. They have managed to hold the Galra at bay for the past ten thousand years due in great part to their excellent shielding technology, however, Galra insurgents succeeded in taking down one of the shielding facilities on their largest moon, leaving them vulnerable--”

     “Let me guess, they need us to come in, guns blazing, to take back their moon?” injected Lance. Allura gave him a look before continuing.

     “ _Yes._ They need help with repairs, too,” added Allura.

It was the work of ten minutes to finalize their plan; together they would clear as many fighters as they could to reach the moon, and then Hunk, Pidge and Shiro would infiltrate the compromised facility, clear the Galra, and do the necessary repairs, while Keith and Lance would provide support from their lions up top.

They headed to their respective hangers to suit up and launch, while Allura opened a wormhole.

Everything went according to plan to begin with. Taking care of the fighters were quick work, and then all they needed to do was get the shield back up and running.

They hit their first snag just as Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro finished clearing the facility of Galra.

     “Shiro! We’ve got incoming!” yelled Keith into his coms.

     “What is it?” asked Shiro.

     “Two destroyers.” They were already releasing swarms of fighters through their gaping bay doors. Swarms that headed straight for them.

     “One’s heading planetside!” added Lance, and with an internal curse, Keith realized that Lance was _right._ The destroyers were splitting up. 

     “You stay here and protect them, I’ll head it off,” said Keith.

     “Wait, Keith! You can’t take a destroyer like that by yourself!” protested Lance.

     “I don’t have to! I just have to hold it off long enough for the shields to go back up!” Keith snapped back.  

 _“I_ can’t take on _this_ destroyer by myself!” Lance screamed, already maneuvering and firing like crazy; the first wave fighters had reached him.

     “Coran’ll help you!”

     “Wait, Keith, you shouldn't split up your formation-” injected Shiro, “we nearly have the shield back up-”

     “There are people on that planet that we have to protect!” roared Keith, and with that, he gunned it for the escaping Destroyer.

It was easy to catch up; Red was faster than any ship the Galra piloted. Once he had caught up however, the fight was brutal. There was one of him, against the hundreds of fighters the destroyer carried, _plus_ the destroyer itself.

     “How long till you get that shield up and running!” Keith yelled into the comms. It was taking every ounce of skill and concentration he possessed to stay ahead of this thing.

     “Not long!” replied Pidge, “just a few more dobashes.”

Keith held his own against the fighters, taking out huge swathes of them with his flamethrower, but his recklessness let them corner him, let the Destroyer lock on to him and land a direct hit with its ion cannon.

He screamed as his cockpit dissolved into white around him, and he was swallowed up by the blast. It took a moment for the world to resolve back into existence for him after that.

Red had protected him from the brunt of the attack, but Keith still felt battered and slightly dazed, like he’d suffered an electric shock _._ He tried to move Red’s controls, but they didn’t respond. Red was totally dead in the water. He wasn’t faring much better, his nerves were fried, leaving his hands shaky and his head swimming. The place where Red’s presence usually resided inside of him, warming him like the molten core of a planet, was oppressively empty. He heard his own name shouted in four different voices through the comms in his helmet, frantic with worry and fear.

Through Red’s windscreen, he could see the Destroyer’s ion cannon warming up to take a second shot at him, and maybe it was because Keith was powerless to do anything but _watch_ , but it seemed to take _forever._  

He had time to brace himself, to raise his arms over his head. Plenty of time to see it coming.

Red’s shield came back online at the last possible second, seeming to repel the Galra ship, and causing the blow to glance off of them.

It pushed them down towards the planet, close enough that gravity started to suck them in, and they started to fall…

     “Oh no, oh no, _oh no_ -”

     “Keith! You have to get out of there, I’m pinned!” screamed Lance over the comms. With Red obviously down, the rest of the Galra fighters were concentrating their efforts on keeping Lance from reaching him in Blue. They knew Myxria would do their job for them - killing him - if they let nature run its course. If they just let him plummet and crash.

     “I can’t move,” said Keith, hands clumsily yanking on the controls and pressing buttons, but it was no use.

     “We’ve completed repairs to the shielding facility and we’re en route to our lions,” injected Shiro over the comms, breathless as if he was sprinting. He probably was.

They were gaining speed; the cockpit became heated as air resistance and friction around Red turned them into a flying fireball.

     “I’m—I’m falling,” said Keith. His voice shook. _Everything_ was shaking.

     “ _Pull up!_ You have to pull up!” screamed Lance.

     “Keith, just hang on!” “We’re nearly at our lions!” chimed in Hunk and Pidge.

The last thing he remembered was pulling up desperately on the dead controls, and then they hit the ground with an almighty crash. There was agony as his body broke under the force of the impact, and then everything went dark.    

  


 

 

 

The violence of the crash was such that it came as a pleasant surprise to Keith when he woke again.

He remembered with perfect clarity what had happened, and it wasn’t the sort of crash that you _survived_ . He wasn’t even in _pain_.

The first tendril of uncertainty curled in his belly when he tried to sit up, and found himself unable to.

     “What the—”

He was cuffed to the bed, by his ankles and his wrists. That was when it occurred to Keith to wonder _where the fuck he was_. His first thought was that he had been captured by the Galra, but just a cursory glance around the room revealed that that couldn’t be the case.

Everything was white. The walls, the alien looking instruments laid out on a tray by his bed, the sheets he was lying on, the clothes he was dressed in; all white. It was bright. Sterile. _Jarring._

Despite the fact that the brightness actually hurt Keith’s eyes to stare at for too long, at least he could be sure that the Galra didn’t have him. Not even a shred of purple, or indeed, any color at all, in sight.

With all this white… maybe he _had_ died?

He tried to move again, testing the strength of the restraints. They dug painfully into the skin of his wrists and ankles, a point in favor for him not being dead.  

     “Don’t struggle.”

Keith stopped struggling immediately. His body followed the command without Keith deciding to.

He twisted his head to see that several aliens had entered the room, like no others he had ever encountered before.   

Although they looked rather humanoid, they were entirely white; their clothes, their skin, their _eyes,_ all _leeched_ of color, just like the room. They were so very white that they were unsettling to look at, and they stared at Keith with an intensity that immediately raised his hackles.

     “Who are you? What’s going on? Let me go!” he said, infusing his voice with more authority and confidence than he actually felt. He wanted to go back to pulling against the restraints, but his body just wasn’t… cooperating? It was as if what he _wanted_ his body to do just wasn’t computing.   

     “Galra scum,” said one of the aliens in a high airy voice, “it was only a matter of time until your base instincts would have won out.”

Keith was utterly confused.

     “ _G-galra?_ I’m not _Galra_ , _”_ he stuttered. “There’s been some sort of misunderstanding, I’m the Red Paladin of Voltron—”

     “ _Silence_. You will not speak unless spoken to.”

Keith had a reply to that statement ready on the tip of his tongue, but just like his limbs, suddenly his tongue didn’t belong to him anymore either. He was powerless to say a word.

The terror that washed over him was chilling in its suddenness. His body was betraying him, he didn’t know where he was, or where the others were, and he was so _so_ confused about what was going on.

     “Let’s see, we don’t want to spoil the surprise, so—” the alien cleared its throat with a little flourish before addressing Keith, “you will behave in a way so that no suspicions are drawn about the procedure. You will tell _no one_ about the procedure. You will behave respectfully towards your betters at all times. You will obey all orders given to you by your fellow Paladins, Princess Allura, and her adviser, without question. You will not ever lie.”  

Keith tried to speak, tried to ask what the _fuck_ was _the procedure,_ but all he managed was a single word— “ _What —_” before pain slammed into him.

It was immediate and all-encompassing, like his entire body was being dipped in boiling oil, while his insides were being shredded. It ended as quickly as it started, and all Keith could do was let out a thin whine of relief that it was over, as he struggled to catch his breath.

     “ _That_ is what will happen if you disobey,” said the alien.

Keith wanted to ask _why_. Why were they doing this to him?

But he _couldn’t_. Just the thought of disobeying, the act of taking in a breath with the half formed intention of using the air to speak, had fire licking up his throat, and the pinpricks of knives rippling across his lips.  

Keith closed his mouth.

     “It learns,” said the alien, with a pleased smile. “Get up, little Galra.”

Inwardly, Keith was panicking. Outwardly, he got up from the bed, calm as anything. Pain kept him in check, pricking up his arms and down his legs in warning with every rebellious wisp of thought.  

He couldn’t run. He couldn’t refuse to get up. He couldn’t scream.

The alien produced a small round mirror from the billowy folds of its white robes, and held it up in front of Keith.

     “Look at the back of your neck.”

Keith was quicker to obey this time. He turned his head and brushed the ends of his hair aside to see…

There was something metallic sticking out of his skin. Round and smooth, like a large silver coin. Keith’s breath caught in his throat. It was embedded much deeper inside him than the tiny piece that was visible, Keith could _feel_ it, like an icy weight at the point where his skull met his spinal column.

     “You will not draw attention to this,” said the alien. “You will not try to remove it, or tamper with it in any way. Now, come, Team Voltron has been anxiously waiting.”

  


 

 

 

     “ _Keith!_ ” five voices cried out at once. Everyone was there bar Coran, who was probably still in the castle.

Shiro reached him first, pulling him into into a hug. Keith’s arms burned, urging him to hug back because it would be weird not to.

     “So good to see you on your feet again,” said Shiro, stepping back with a broad smile.

_Help me. I’m scared._

     “It’s good to be back,” Keith replied. His face smiled, but on the inside he was screaming.

Everyone else crowded forward, and Shiro stepped back to let Hunk pat him on the back, and Pidge hug him around his waist. Lance punched him affectionately in the shoulder, and Allura simply smiled and gave him a thorough once-over as if to make sure that the Myxrians had fixed him properly.

     “Princess, we wanted to present you with a gift. Tonight there will be a ceremony—”

     “Thank you, for your kindness,” injected Allura with a razor sharp smile. “Normally we would love to stay, but in the four days it has taken for Keith to recover, we have received two distress calls, so we really must be on our way.”    

     “No matter,” said one of the aliens, “please return when you are able to so that we may properly present you with our gift.”

     “No gifts are necessary, I insist,” said Allura, “your taking care of Keith, and accommodating us here in the city while we waited was more than enough to pay back any debt you feel you may owe us.”

Allura smiled at him, and pain spread across Keith’s face, forcing him to smile back.

Keith wanted to cry. Hearing Allura thanking these aliens for what they had done to him was almost too much to bear, but he wasn’t allowed to crumple into tears. He could only stand there as pain eroded any genuine expression that might have reflected what he was feeling on the inside.  

     “Very well, the gift ceremony can wait until you return,” allowed the alien.

Allura’s lip twitched as she schooled her expression to be neutral.

     “Thank you for understanding our busy schedule.”

They left very quickly after that, Allura sidestepping every offer to stay for longer, or accept gifts.

     “Have we _really_ received two distress signals?” Lance asked in a carrying whisper, and Allura shushed him with an elegant wave of her dainty hand.  

     “ _No_ ,” she breathed much more quietly.

     “Trust me, Myrxian culture is very… _strange_ when it comes to gifts. The ceremonies go on for an eternity, and they have a knack for giving things that are… _unorthodox_ , and, more often than not, _unwelcome_ ,” she explained quickly under her breath.

Keith… _Keith_ was their gift, and they didn’t know and he couldn’t tell them...

Shiro herded him away from the others with a firm hand on his shoulder to Black.

     “You’re probably wondering what happened to Red?”

He hadn’t. He was too busy internally freaking out, but now that Shiro mentioned it…

     “Yes! Is Red okay? It was a bad crash…”

     “Coran’s working on him as we speak, he thinks repairs might take another movement or two... You really gave us a scare, Keith,” said Shiro more seriously.  

     “None of us could get to you. If the Myxrians hadn’t…” Shiro trailed off as Black bowed her great head and opened her mouth to accept them. Shiro squeezed Keith’s shoulder.

     “It’s really good to have you back.”

Shiro smiled at him joyfully, and Keith was forced to smile back.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Lance now**

 

     “You see, when the Red Paladin was injured, we discovered irregularities in it’s genetic make up. Galran imperfections, it is a _half-breed._ ” They spat ‘half-breed’ like a curse word, and Lance didn’t miss that they kept referring to Keith as an ‘ _it_ ’, like he was an animal. Sub-human. It made Lance bristle Keith’s behalf, and he couldn’t help but drop Keith’s hand in favor of wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders, like he could shield him from the Myxrian’s disdain.   

     “It is in a Galra’s very nature to be violent and discordant, and though it is half-human, your Red Paladin is no exception.”   

Grossly misinterpreting the looks of abject horror on everyone’s faces, the Myxrian continued blithely.

     “We did not think you were aware of the monster in your midst, and it appears that our assumption was correct. It hid its true nature quite adeptly. Fear not, thanks to our gift it will _never_ have the opportunity to betray you.”  

     “Stop calling him that!” snapped Pidge suddenly. Her small fists were clenched tightly at her sides, and her upper lip was pulled back in a snarl. “His name is _Keith_ , he isn’t a monster, so stop calling him _it!_ ”  

     “As you wish, Green Paladin,” they replied, managing to look and sound condescending. “I understand that your species—humans—are prone to sentimentality. We accept that it may take some time to internalize that the Red Paladin isn’t who you thought he was. In the meantime, may we commence with the ceremony?”

Shiro made another move as if he was going to start marching up the stairs, but once again Allura stopped him, this time grabbing his wrist.

     “ _Punishing them won’t help us fix Keith!_ ” she hissed at him under her breath. Hunk took a step forward to hover fretfully behind him.

     “She’s right, man. We don’t know how to disable what they did,” Hunk whispered. “What’s that thing you say to Keith?”

     “Patience yields focus,” Keith answered quietly.   

At the sound of Keith’s voice, Shiro turned to look at him, and his ire seemed to deflate back to desperate concern.

     “Fine,” he acquiesced, crossing his arms over his chest tightly. Lance got the distinct impression that Shiro’s hold on his temper was tenuous at best, and it was frightening because Shiro was the most level-headed person he knew. Hunk seemed to agree with his assessment because he stuck by Shiro’s side, sneaking worried looks at him.

     “You may proceed,” called Allura loudly, and the Myxrian flashed that terrible smile again.

     “Excellent, our lead hoktril engineer will now explain the new improvements you can enjoy.”

That Myxrian gave them a low bow, before stepping back into line, and then a different Myxrian stepped forward to address them. The golden band on their arm had a slightly different pattern from the one before, but aside from that, they were indistinguishable to Lance.

     “We kept the programming standard. It will obey any orders from a Paladin or yourself and your adviser, Princess. It cannot lie, and will only speak when spoken too.”

_Obey any order._

Lance felt like he was going to be sick. He wanted to wrap Keith up in his arms and hide him away from these awful aliens, but he settled for flexing the arm around Keith’s shoulders to tuck him more tightly against his side. They’d have to go through all of them, every Paladin of Voltron plus Allura, if they wanted to hurt to Keith again.

Out of the billowy white folds of their cloak, the engineer produced a small white box.

     “For more delicate fine-tuning of the behavior you wish to see, you use this control,” they said, sliding a piece of the box away to reveal a row of shining buttons labeled with an unfamiliar script Lance didn’t think he’d be able to understand even it it were close enough to make out the individual letters.

     “It also has the fail-safe kill switch, and can adjust the punishment settings.”

_It has the WHAT now?_

     “Kill switch?” repeated Allura, saying the thing that had alarmed all of them. Well, ‘punishment’ was plenty alarming too, but ‘kill switch’ was more immediately pressing.

     “Yes, this button right here,” said the engineer, and then they  _pressed it._

     “No, wait!” screamed Pidge.

Shiro lunged forward, Allura yelled “Hunk, hold him back!”, and Lance grabbed Keith by the shoulders to turn him so they were facing each other, feeling like his heart was going to come up through his throat. Oh god. Lance couldn’t do this again, couldn’t bear it if he’d saved Keith from the airlock just for him to die with the press of a button now.   

Keith simply gazed back at him unblinkingly.

     “Guys, I—I think he’s alright,” Lance called hoarsely when Keith continued just standing there and didn’t drop dead. Or was the kill switch just delayed?

By that point Hunk had both arms wrapped around Shiro like restrictive tree trunks, one around his torso, and the other around one shoulder.

     “Let me go, Hunk,” Shiro growled.

     “Hey, hey, hey, Keith’s alright. Don’t do anything rash,” Hunk tried to soothe, voice tight with exertion as he held Shiro back.

Pressing the button hadn’t seemed to do anything to Keith, so Lance fixed his attention back on the engineer and saw that a holographic keypad was floating above the white box.

     “If you wish to activate the kill switch, you must enter the death code here, which of course we will share with you,” the engineer explained. He pressed the button again and the holographic keypad disappeared.

Lance sagged where he stood, relief almost robbing him of the strength to stand. Shiro stopped struggling against Hunk’s hold, and even Allura’s shoulders seemed to slump in relief.

     “Quiznak,” breathed Pidge, summing up Lance’s feelings succinctly.

     “What did you mean by punishment settings?” asked Allura.

Lance had a feeling that he was going to hate this explanation.

     “Quite simply, if he tries to disobey an order, it will cause him pain. At the moment he is set to medium, but if you find that his obedience is not complete, you may adjust it higher. Low is generally enough to keep all but the most stubborn of individuals in line, so I don’t foresee you having any issues at medium.”

Oh god. All that ‘unusual activity’ in Keith’s brain, because it was _hurting_ him. The engineer bowed and stepped back into his place in line, and the Myxrian from before took his place once more.

     “Oh, I almost forgot. We temporarily ordered him to behave naturally and not give any of this away because, _of course_ , we needed to reveal it to you all at a proper presentation ceremony. We can lift it now to conclude the explanation portion of this ceremony,” they said.

They waved a hand at the engineer, who produced the little white box again, and slid the top away to press some buttons.

     “There, completely reverted to preliminary settings,” announced the engineer cheerfully.   

Lance watched it happen.

Keith’s eyelids fluttered as if he was snapping out of a daydream, and he took a rattling breath in. His exhale came out as a guttural sob that Keith seemed to choke on, and he immediately slapped one of his own hands over his mouth tightly as his whole body started to shake.

He managed to swallow back the rest of his sobs, but he couldn’t hold back his whimpers, and it was the worst sound that Lance had ever heard. It made his heart feel like it was being put through a shredder.

Keith fell heavily to his knees in front of Lance, collapsing like a tower of blocks, and Lance went down with him, hands still on his trembling shoulders.

     “H-hey, you’re alright,” Lance stammered, squeezing Keith’s shoulders. He desperately wanted to do something to make it better but he had no idea what he _could_ do.

     “O-off— _off —_” Keith choked out between those heart-wrenching little whimpers, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the fastenings of his helmet.  
   
     “Let me help,” Lance urged, afraid that Keith might inadvertently hurt himself with how hard he was struggling, but Keith wouldn’t stop.

Lance’s hands fluttered uselessly around his head, until Keith ripped the helmet off himself, letting it fall to the ground with a careless clatter.

     “P-please—o- _off,”_ Keith whimpered, reaching with both hands for the back of his neck...

     “No—hang on, Keith, _wait —_” Lance stuttered once he realized what Keith was going to do, but he wasn’t quick enough.

Lance could tell when Keith touched the piece of metal sticking out of his neck because he let out an anguished cry, his whole body went as stiff as a board, and he began to crumple.

Lance caught him by the forearms, preventing him from face planting on the ground.  

     “Punishment response is triggered when anyone touches the implant,” called one of the Myxrians on the dais helpfully.

Chaos erupted.

Shiro’s temper snapped completely, and he growled and lunged for the stage again. Hunk once again managed to grab him to hold him back, but it was begrudgingly done.

     “I wanna let him go, Allura,” he said in an uncharacteristically hard voice.

     “ _Don’t_ ,” ordered Allura sharply.

     “But, Allura, look what they did to him!” protested Pidge, angrily stomping forward only for Allura to intervene and grab her just as Hunk had grabbed Shiro.

     “Paladins, I need you to _calm down,_ ” she boomed.

Lance refocused his attention on Keith, who had started to hyperventilate. He gasped for breath, tears pouring down his cheeks as his eyes darted around, dazed and afraid, seemingly unable to focus on anything.

He pulled one shaking hand back from Lance’s grip to claw desperately at his own neck, leaving deep red welts on his own skin.

     “No, Keith, you’re _hurting_ yourself, stop!” cried Lance. Keith stopped immediately, hand freezing on his neck, but what followed was almost worse than watching Keith tear at himself in anguish. The look he gave Lance with those big wet eyes, pained and betrayed, made Lance feel like a monster.

     “I—I take it back, no orders,” Lance blurted, and Keith immediately exhaled sharply as if Lance’s words had released him from a choke hold.

He went right back to clawing at his own skin and Lance felt so useless. So powerless. His own eyes welled up with sympathetic tears, and he caught Keith’s flailing hands with his own, opting to physically restrain him rather than telling him to stop again.

Keith struggled weakly against him. He should have been stronger, Keith _always_ did better than Lance in hand to hand combat, but he was sobbing, he was shaking, he was distraught, and for once it was easy for Lance to overpower him.   

     “Keith, please, I’m trying to help you, will you let me help?” said Lance, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

     “L-Lance?” Keith whispered, blinking owlishly and finally focusing his gaze on Lance’s face.

     “Yeah, buddy. S’me,” answered Lance. It was taking every bit of self control he possessed not to break down crying too. “How—how you feeling?” he asked softly.

     “S-scared.”

Lance was an idiot. What a stupid question for him to have asked. “What can I do to help you feel safer?” That was better.

     “D-don’t want to be here, don’t like it here,” muttered Keith.

Lance got to his feet, and pulled Keith back up to his feet too, again wrapping an arm around his shoulders protectively.

     “How exciting, what a charming way to show your gratitude, humans are strange,” remarked one of the Myxrians on the dais, flashing a smile filled with those awful pointy teeth.  

     “ _Gratitude!?_ ” Shiro roared in fury. Lance heard the electronic hum of Shiro’s Galra hand activating.  

     “Shiro, _no!_ ” grunted Hunk, digging in his heels and lifting Shiro clean off the ground.

     “Let. Me. _Go_ ,” Shiro ordered, dripping fury and righteous authority, but Hunk gave him no quarter. Hunk was braver than Lance in that moment, because if Shiro had spoken to him in that tone of voice, he would have been jumping to obey immediately.

     “I’m taking Keith back to Blue,” Lance announced. He didn’t think anyone heard him—Hunk and Allura were too busy stopping Shiro from committing murder, and Pidge from committing violence—but Lance didn’t care. He didn’t want to be here any more than Keith did, and if leaving this cursed place was what Keith needed to feel safe, Lance would damn well make that happen for him.

He exerted some guiding pressure where his arm was wrapped around Keith’s shoulders, intending to gently lead him over to Blue, but Keith stumbled. His knees were shaking too badly to walk properly.  

     “S-sorry, I’m sorry,” Keith whimpered and Lance hated how small he sounded.

     “It’s fine, I promise. I can walk for both of us,” soothed Lance, slipping his arm off of Keith’s shoulders so he could step in front of him to offer his back. “Piggyback?”

     “H-how?”

     “If-if you just come closer, you could put your hands on my shoulders…” Lance was mindful of his words, trying not to make anything he said an order.

Keith’s touch was tentative, barely ghosting over the armor at Lance’s shoulders, but that was close enough for Lance to do the rest for him. Close enough for Lance to reach for him and hike him up his back. Lance wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but Keith was surprisingly light. He was such a force of nature, his very presence made any room he was in _charged_ , or at least, that was how it always felt for Lance. The weight of his body shouldn’t have been so negligible for Lance to carry.

Keith’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he hid his face in Lance’s neck. Pressed together like this, Lance could feel how badly he trembled.

     “Don’t worry. I got you,” Lance murmured to him, before turning on his heel to begin walking back across the white marble square towards the purple grass where he’d left Blue.

And then something creepy happened. The lines of Myxrians spectators began to move. Up until that point, Lance had totally forgotten about them because they were silent, essentially _scenery_.

They marched exactly in sync and without a word exchanged between any of them until they formed a huge white semi-circle, cutting off the path to the lions.

     “You mustn’t leave!” yelled one of the Myxrians on the stage. The sound of their voice made Keith cringe, Lance could feel him curling up tighter against his back, pressing his face more firmly into Lance’s neck. He heard the whimper Keith let out right by his ear…  

     “The ceremony has not concluded yet!”

     “Lance, please come back here. _All of you_ , control yourselves,” said Allura, voice like steel.

She trained her eyes on Shiro in particular, staring him down until he extinguished his Galra hand. He still didn’t relax, tension was written all over his body, and Hunk still didn’t let go of him.

Lance did as Allura had asked, but not without protest.

     “Allura, _look_ at him.” As if to underscore Lance’s point, Keith’s breathing hitched as he started to cry quietly in earnest. “He shouldn’t _be_ here—”

     “Lance.” She silenced him with a look.

     “I apologize for the behavior of my Paladins, they are… unfamiliar with Myxrian gifting practices. Please know that this _is_ how they express excitement. Do go on.”  

Allura’s words stunned all of them enough to actually allow the next item on the agenda to begin.

     “Normally, after the parameters of the gift have been explained, it would be displayed up here for ten dobashes so that all in attendance might admire it.” The Myxrian who said that stared right over Lance’s shoulder at Keith…

     “ _NO_ ,” snapped Lance. He was not going to allow them to display Keith up there like a morbid exhibition for the entertainment of these aliens.

     “ _Lance_ ,” chastised Allura through gritted teeth.

     “It’s quite alright, your Blue Paladin has correctly come to the same conclusion that we did. Seeing as the Red Paladin is already in your possession, we will just use it’s— sorry, I mean _his —_” they flashed a condescending smile at Pidge that was all teeth, “—remote control for this ritual.”

     “Might the Blue Paladin be excused to return Keith to the castleship if he is not needed?” requested Allura.

The Myxrian frowned, and then raised a hand which had the other Myxrians on the dais gathering around them in a huddle as they conferred.

     “Keith, buddy, everything’s gonna be alright,” Lance murmured under his breath, turning his head to speak over his shoulder. He could feel Keith’s chest heaving against his back as he struggled to choke back his sobs. Keith wasn’t being noisy, he just seemed loud in the wide open space of the square, especially seeing as there were so many silent spectators.

     “What are we even doing, we should _all_ leave,” whispered Hunk.

     “Not without that control,” Allura hissed back.

     “Then let’s _take_ it,” snapped Pidge.

     “If we’re patient, they’re going to _give_ it to us anyway. Are you willing to risk that their spite might hurt Keith if we offend them?” retorted Allura.

     “No. No we’re not.” Shiro sagged in Hunk’s hold. “You can let go of me,” he murmured.

The Myxrians fell back into line, seemingly having come to a decision.

     “It doesn’t seem fair for the Blue Paladin to miss out on the festivities. If the racket it— _he_ is producing is bothering you, we can make him stop—” Keith burrowed even closer into Lance, clinging so tightly that it probably would have hurt if not for Lance’s armor.  

     “ _No!_ I mean, no. That won’t be necessary,” said Allura. “In light of these… developments, I think it would be prudent for one of us to watch him, and Lance doesn’t mind.”

     “I don’t mind,” Lance agreed. “Parties aren’t my thing,” he deadpanned, a patently untrue statement. It would have been a funny thing for him to say in any other situation.

     “Very well then,” said the Myxrian, bowing low to dismiss them. “We hope to meet you again, Blue Paladin.”

Lance managed a tight smile that felt more like a grimace on his face, before turning on his heel to march away.

     “You shouldn’t,” he muttered under his breath to himself. If they ever came back and didn’t have Keith’s well-being as a factor to consider, Lance would probably kill them. Provided Shiro didn’t do it first.

The walk across the square felt like it took forever, maybe because every single Myxrian bystander seemed to be staring at the pair of them with emotionless, colorless eyes.

They reminded Lance of the deadness of Keith’s eyes before…

Oh god. Were they _all-?_

With every step that he drew nearer to the line of Myxrians, the more certain Lance became.

Even though the Myxrian directly blocking the way to his lion stepped out of the way for him to pass, Lance shoulder-barged them on purpose. Like he’d intended, their white hood fell back.

     “‘Scuse me,” he said, looking back as they slowly righted themself. He caught a glimpse of something metallic on the back of their neck before they managed to put their white hood back on...

The sight of it left Lance feeling like he’d been doused with icy water.

Even though on the surface the Myxrians seemed serene and sophisticated with their clean city and their white marble buildings, it was all a thin veneer.

Underneath those trappings, this planet was rotten to the core.   

  


 

 

 

Once they were safely ensconced within the Blue Lion’s cockpit, Lance released Keith’s legs, setting him down gently.

Keith had quieted down to occasional sniffles over the course of their walk here, but he hadn’t stopped trembling. His arms slipped down from around Lance’s shoulders, coming to rest bunched up against the middle of Lance’s back. He didn’t move away.

     “Okay, let’s get out of this hell hole,” said Lance, stepping forward and turning around to face Keith. Keith began to pitch forward without Lance to lean against, forcing Lance to catch him by the shoulders.

He looked utterly miserable and beaten down, his mouth a trembling line, his eyes wet and brimming. It sent a pang of sympathy straight through Lance’s chest, and he couldn’t help himself.

     “Can I hug you, Keith?” he asked. Lance didn’t hesitate when Keith nodded in reply, sliding his arms around his shoulders and pulling him in tight, mindful of keeping his hands away from the metal embedded in Keith’s neck. Keith melted against him, tucking his face back up into the hollow of Lance’s neck, and wrapping his arms tightly around Lance’s waist.

     “Everything’s gonna be okay, the others are gonna get that remote and we’ll figure out how to shut this thing down, okay?” he murmured into Keith’s hair. Keith didn’t say a word, he just shook and clung. They stood like that, pressed together, for several minutes.    

When Lance finally tried to pull back, mindful of the fact that they needed to leave, Keith just clung to him more tightly and let out a tiny whimper.  

     “Keith, I need to pilot,” said Lance helplessly. Keith didn’t budge.

Lance sighed. “Okay, come on. We’ll just... share the pilot seat I guess.”

He maneuvered them over to his chair, and when he sat, Keith obeyed the gentle suggestions of Lance’s hands on his hips to sit sideways in his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around Lance’s neck, and reburied his face in Lance’s chest, managing to curl up into an impressively compact ball of trembling Paladin.

Lance reached around Keith for the controls, and directed Blue to take them back to the castle. Even though Keith wasn’t her Paladin, Lance could feel Blue’s concern for him wrap around his mind like a cool blanket. Blue was fond of Keith. He was the one that had led Lance to her, and she could feel Lance’s fondness for him too, no matter how hard Lance tried to hide it from himself.

He hailed the castle once they exited the atmosphere.

     “I’m bringing Keith back,” he told Coran when the comm-screen connected.

     “I can see that,” said Coran, uncharacteristically grave as he took in how they were sitting.

     “Keith, are you alright?” he asked softly.

     “Not… not really.” The words shook, muffled into Lance’s shoulder. Coran and Lance looked at each other, equally dismayed.

     “Does he need a pod?” asked Coran.

     “I don’t think so.”

     “Will you require my assistance when you arrive?”

     “It’s… it’s alright, I’ll take care of him. It’s probably best if you just keep monitoring Myxria in case the others need backup.”

Coran gave one sharp nod, and with that the call ended.

When they landed in Blue’s hangar, Lance didn’t try to get up. Keith was still shaking, and he made no move to uncurl.  

     “Hey. So… we’re in the castle now,” Lance told him, keeping his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe,” he added.

     “O-okay. S-sorry, sorry. I-I’ll get up.” Keith voice was small and rasping, colored by pain and mortification.

     “It’s fine, you can take your time,” Lance soothed. “We can just… sit here for as long as you like.”       

     “I-I shouldn’t be so—th-they m-made it s-stop but I’m still…”

     “Still what?”

     “I sh-should be _fine_ but-but I’m still scared. Still— still _weak_.” Keith was breaking his heart, crumbling it into tiny little pieces.   

     “Keith, _no_. No one would be fine after what—Look, you _aren’t_ weak, okay?” Lance insisted.

Keith didn’t reply. He just sniffed and curled up impossibly smaller.

Lance sighed. His mother always said he was especially empathetic. Something about Keith’s distress made every cell of his body align to _comfort_.   

He stroked Keith’s hip and and lay a hand against the back of his head, wracking his brain for what he should do now to make Keith feel better.  

     “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Keith gave a tiny shrug.

     “Alright, well, when you’re ready, let’s get you something to eat and drink. Are you tired? Is… is there anything I can do to make you feel more. Um. Comfortable?”

     “I—I don’t wanna be alone,” Keith admitted in an ashamed whisper.

     “Okay, that’s fine. I won’t leave you,” Lance promised.

     “I’m sorry. I—I know I’m not your favorite person but—” Lance’s face dropped.

     “Keith—”

     “It— it was s-so much worse when—when I was _alone — _”

     “Woah, woah, woah, _Keith_ ,” Lance interrupted, gathering him up to hold him tighter. “This isn’t a hardship for me, okay? I don’t really wanna leave you alone right now either, you nearly _died_ , man.”

Saying it out loud made it more real. The thing those aliens put in Keith’s neck nearly killed him…

No, _Lance_ had nearly killed him by telling him to jump out of the stupid airlock. That put a huge lump in his throat that was hard to swallow. Lance coughed and cleared his throat before attempting to speak again, blinking back the moisture in his eyes stubbornly. _He_ was fine, he had to be strong. For Keith.

     “Come on, let’s find somewhere more comfy to sit, these chairs are only made for one person,” Lance joked weakly.

     “Alright,” replied Keith softly.

  


 

 

 

A varga later, the pair of them were freshly showered and back in their comfy civilians clothes, sat in the rec-room on the couch side by side.

Lance had managed to coax Keith into eating some goo, mindful of not ordering him to, before giving him a steaming cup of the space equivalent of hot chocolate.

     “Here,” muttered Lance, draping a blanket around Keith’s shoulders. He was still trembling, and Lance didn’t know if was because he was cold or… well, he just looked like he needed to be tucked up under a blanket. At least he wasn’t crying anymore. His eyes were just red, and he looked incredibly wan. The red scratches he’d inflicted on himself stood out in stark relief against his pale skin, and Lance wished that he’d been quicker to stop him.

The ends of Keith’s hair were still dripping, soaking the shoulders of his well-worn black shirt; apparently he hadn’t discovered the hair drying function in the Altean showers. Early on during their time here, Lance had systematically tested every button. Altean showers were _delightful_ in his opinion.  

     “You know, if you press the orange button with the squiggly lines it’ll dry your hair for you,” he remarked.

     “Why? Air does the job just fine,” Keith rasped quietly in reply.

Normally, this would be the point in the conversation where Lance would say something challenging or insulting, and they’d banter/argue until Shiro broke them up, or something else interrupted them.

This time, Lance held his tongue, and let Keith finish his hot chocolate in silence.

He took his mug from him when it was finished to put it on a side table.

     “Keith…” he began, brows furrowed together, lips pressed into a thin line. This whole ordeal had left Keith raw and exposed. It had forced him to be vulnerable with Lance in a way he never would have wanted to be under normal circumstances, so it was only fair for Lance to try and meet that halfway. Keith deserved his honesty, but more importantly, Lance owed him an apology.

Hearing the seriousness of his tone, Keith gave Lance all his attention, fixing those dark eyes on his face. Lance liked it when Keith’s attention was focused on him like this. He’d never let himself examine _why_ , but he could acknowledge now that part of the reason he… _prodded_ at Keith so much had to do with keeping that attention on him. Even though it was negative, it felt better than being ignored. It was petty, but Keith brought out the worst in him. Lance didn’t want to give Keith his worst anymore, he deserved better…

     “I’m sorry,” Lance said. He only managed to maintain eye contact for a second before faltering, and staring down at his own hands in his lap.

     “What?” Keith sounded small and confused.

     “I’m sorry,” Lance repeated to his knees. “I’ve… I’ve sort of been a giant dick to you, haven’t I? These past two weeks especially.” Lance chuckled humorlessly. “It’s not your fault, you know. I mean, don't get me wrong, you can be a massive dick too sometimes. You’re just... a _really_ tough act to follow.”

     “W-what?” Keith repeated, sounding even smaller and more confused.

Lance sighed, flopping back to rest his head against the back of the sofa, staring at the high ceiling and crossing his arms over his chest.

     “You _know_ I got your spot in fighter class when you flunked out. It was like-like competing with a _shadow_ of you. _Constantly_ . ‘McClain, Kogane would have made that turn, McClain, Kogane never would have messed up a maneuver like that, Kogane, Kogane, _Kogane.’”_

Wow. This was shaping up to be a terrible apology. Self-pity was a bad look on anyone, so Lance changed tack.

     “I guess what I’m _trying_ to say is that I’ve been competing with you in my head since the Garrison, so now that you’re actually here, right in front of me, it’s sort of second nature to-to _keep on_ competing.”

     “Oh… I-I guess… sometimes it was fun. Competing with you. But at the same time... I always wondered what I did that made you hate me.”

Lance snapped forward, staring at Keith in horrified shock. Keith hugged himself, eyes downcast, trembling still.

     “Keith, I don’t hate you,” blurted Lance, saddened and dismayed. “Do—do _you_ hate _me?_ ” he asked, already feeling a sting behind his eyeballs.

     “No,” whispered Keith. Lance breathed a sigh of relief.

     “Look, I don’t mean to turn my problems into yours. I… I respect you a lot, Keith, but you remind me of my shortcomings. I _want_ to be better. Not-not better than _you_ , a better _teammate_ . A… a better _friend_.”

Keith’s eyes had become wet again over the course of Lance’s speech.

     “Oh no, _Keith_ , please—” it was on the tip of his tongue, _please don’t cry_. And then behind his eyelids he caught a mental flash of the wounded look Keith had given him earlier when he’d told him to stop hurting himself. He didn’t ever want to make Keith look at him like that again.

     “I don’t want to make you cry,” he amended, scooting closer to lay a comforting hand on Keith’s trembling shoulder.

     “Listen, I promise I’ll try to keep the competing fun from now on. And I’m sorry about the past two weeks, it felt like you were ignoring me and it was driving me crazy. I’m… I’m _so sorry_ about the airlock.”    

     “It’s fine,” answered Keith, voice rough. “When… when I had to-to behave ‘ _normally_ ,’ you were the only one that noticed that I wasn’t really _there_. It was the only thing that gave me hope I that wouldn’t be s-stuck like that forever.” Keith’s face crumpled and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, making the tears that had gathered there slip down his cheeks. He took a few shuddering breaths, clearly trying to prevent himself from breaking down.

     “They ordered me to be polite, but they also ordered me to act normally and with you—I couldn't do _both._ What if things were better that way?” Keith sounded defeated. “Everyone preferred me that way, it-it _fixed_ everything that’s wrong with me. Even Shiro, he—”

     “Keith—”

     “W-what if Allura and Coran agree with them? They could get the controller and—I—I mean, I’m _Galra_ . It m-might be better. I—I might be dangerous. What if I—what if I—” Keith couldn’t go on, he was too distraught, and Lance’s heart broke for him all over again. What Keith had gone through was traumatic even _without_ this emotional hurt everyone unknowingly dealt him.

     “ _No_ , Keith,” he said fiercely, pulling Keith to his chest to hug him tightly.

     “Even if you _are_ half Galra, you’re also half human, and you _aren’t_ dangerous. It doesn’t matter who your parents are, and I’m _sure_ Allura will agree. She’s a good person, she won’t hold it against you, _none of us_ will. And even if she does, I can promise you this now, we’ll all fucking _mutiny_ for you, Keith. Me, Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro. We’ll protect you, alright? There’s no Voltron without us. No Voltron without _you_.”      

Keith sniffed a few times, and Lance rubbed his back the way his mother used to do for him when he was upset. Slowly, bit by bit, Keith crumbled against him, relaxing into the embrace. Lance felt a hot puff of breath against his neck when Keith yawned.

     “Are you tired?” Lance asked.

Keith nodded, and his hair tickled Lance’s chin. “Didn’t get much sleep. Lying in bed when I was, _you know_ , it felt like sleep paralysis.”

     “Why don’t you take a nap while we wait for the others?” Lance suggested.

Keith went rigid in his embrace, and his fingers curled tightly into Lance’s shirt as if he was afraid of being pushed away.

     “What’s the matter?”

     “Don’t wanna be alone,” Keith mumbled.

     “I know, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay, I promise. Why don’t you lie down?” Lance managed to coax Keith into curling up on the couch with his head pillowed in Lance’s lap.    

     “You don’t have to take a nap if you don’t want to, maybe just… rest your eyes?” he suggested.

     “Okay,” whispered Keith, letting his eyelids flutter shut.

Lance kept rubbing Keith’s back, and he watched as his breathing evened out and he drifted off.

As Lance passed his palms over Keith’s shoulder blades and down the seam of his back, it occurred to him just how fragile Keith was. That idea pounded in his heart with every knob of Keith’s spine his fingertips passed over. His eyelashes were long and dark, casting gentle shadows across the apples of his cheeks.

 _He’s sort of beautiful,_ Lance admitted to himself begrudgingly. 

He’d never seen Keith look so peaceful…

Minutes passed like that, with Lance watching Keith sleep, while ruminating on the discussion they’d had, and Keith’s fragility.

  


 

 

 

The peace was shattered when the rest of the team finally returned from Myxria. Allura hadn’t been kidding when she said the ceremonies were long and drawn out, they’d all been gone for _vargas_. Lance heard them approaching before he saw them, all hurried footsteps and raised voices drawing nearer and nearer until the door slid open and everyone burst in at once.

Lance unconsciously pulled Keith closer, the other boy half laying in his lap with one of Lance’s arms around his shoulder and the other instinctively dropping to Keith’s hair, as if somehow that one hand could protect Keith form the conversation that was about to happen.

     “Princess Allura, _please_ , let me dress it—” pleaded Coran.

     “ _Leave it_ , Coran!” Allura snarled back, cradling one of her hands to her chest.

     “Look, if you give it to us we can run diagnostics on it to figure out how to deactivate it—” huffed Pidge.

     “We aren’t doing _anything_ without Keith’s permission,” said Shiro hoarsely, expression haunted.   

     “That isn’t what Pidge and I are suggesting—” said Hunk.

     “Everyone, _shhh!_ ” hissed Lance, making everyone freeze as they took in the scene. Despite the racket of their entrance, Keith slept on obliviously.  

     “I just managed to calm him down, _keep it down_ ,” Lance demanded, keeping his voice low. Everyone looked stricken; Lance’s words reminded them that  Keith had been in a state that needed calming in the first place.

Lance noticed blood staining Allura’s sleeve…

     “What—what happened to your hand, Allura?” he asked, keeping his voice hushed. Coran was still fussing, brandishing gauze at her and trying to get her to present him with her injured hand.

     “ _Nothing_ ,” she snapped, glaring Coran into submission, and he relented with a pout.

     “She punched the hangar door and put a massive hole in it,” supplied Hunk quietly, and Allura glared at him too.

     “What? It’s true…” mumbled Hunk under his breath.

Lance could only blink in response to that. The hangar doors were inches think, made of Altean metal stronger than anything humans had ever come up with, and Allura had put a _hole_ through it?

     “Why?” asked Lance, awed and slightly afraid.  

     “Because I am _livid_ about what they did to _MY_ PALADIN!” she hissed, eyes flashing furiously, composure fracturing.   

Lance attention was tugged down to the boy in his lap when he shifted, frowning in his sleep, apparently disturbed by the tone of Allura’s voice. Lance held his breath, _everyone_ did. Carefully, Lance laid a hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles. Keith let out a sleepy sigh and curled up tighter, the little frown smoothing out, and everyone deflated in relief.  

     “Sorry,” whispered Allura.

    “How is he, Lance?” murmured Shiro, redirecting the conversation. He knelt down on one knee beside them, reaching out to ever so gently brush a lock of hair out of Keith’s face. His kind dark eyes shined with worry.

     “He’s…” Lance looked down at where his fingers were still tracing shapes on Keith’s back. What could he say?

     “He’s so hurt…” Lance whispered.

     “I thought you said he didn’t need a pod?” said Coran.

     “I don’t mean—not _that_ kind of hurt.”

Lance felt terrible for the expressions his words put on his teammates faces, but if they were going to help Keith, they needed to know. To _understand._

     “He’s scared.”

     “Of course, it’s _horrifying_ , but we’re gonna get that thing out of him,” said Pidge, burning with conviction. Lance shook his head.

     “You’re right, Pidge, but-but that’s not—” God. He was getting choked up. He mentally slapped himself, and told himself to keep it together.

     “What is it?” asked Shiro.

     “He’s scared that we’ll all prefer him the way he’s been for the last two weeks. He’s-he’s _hurt_ no one noticed.”

     “You noticed,” whispered Hunk.

     “Yeah, and I nearly made him jump out of an airlock,” replied Lance bitterly.   

Shiro’s face turned white as a sheet, twisted in anguish. “I—I told him that he was doing so much better lately.”

     “We-we didn’t listen to you when you mentioned it to us,” added Pidge tearfully, and Lance didn’t know what to say. His first instinct was to comfort, to _soothe_ , to say it was alright. But it wasn’t, was it? And he wasn’t even finished yet.   

     “Also, the Galra thing… Allura, Coran, you need to say something to him because he’s scared you might agree with the Myxrians.” Coran and Allura exchanged a glance.

     “What do you mean?” asked Coran.

     “He—he’s worried you’ll want to—to _use_ the _gift_ ,” Lance spat the word ‘gift’ derisively.

     “We would _never —_It’s _barbaric_ , it was _hurting_ him!” cried Allura. Lance had never seen Coran look so sad.

     “He’s scared you’ll agree that he’s dangerous. He’s scared that he _is_ dangerous.”

Allura’s eyes went dangerously glassy, and it was alarming because Lance had never seen her cry. She’d woken up to find that her father was dead, that her whole _planet_ and society were long gone, and then she’d gotten right down to the business of freeing the universe from the Galra. She’d been so strong...

But Lance could understand.  

There was something just heart-wrenching about Keith, tough, introspective, earnest, _Keith,_ being so afraid and hurt. So vulnerable.

     “We need to fix this, guys,” murmured Hunk.

     “There’s one other thing,” said Lance, biting his lip. “I noticed that one of the Myxrians in the crowd had the same thing Keith has. What did they call it? A hog, um, hok-something?”

     “Hoktril,” injected Pidge.

     “Wait, are you saying…” Hunk trailed off. Pidge grasped what Lance was getting at much more quickly.

     “They _did_ say that it’s a cornerstone of their civilization,” she said.

There was a horrified beat of silence.

     “We need to free them!” blurted Hunk.

     “I agree that something needs to be done, but we cannot risk going back until we are _certain_ that Keith won’t be hurt in the crossfire if we challenge them,” said Allura.

Shiro stood from where he was knelt, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes.    

     “Hunk, Pidge, Coran, take the remote and analyse it. I want to know if we can destroy it without compromising Keith’s safety. Find out if the Myxrians have remote access to it, too,” he ordered gruffly. He turned to Allura. “We should try making contact with the nearest planets in this galaxy to see if we can glean anything else about the situation on Myxria. _After_ you let me bandage your hand, that is.”

     “Fine,” Allura acquiesced.

     “ _Thank_ you,” said Coran, handing over the bandages to Shiro.      

     “Want me to carry Keith back to his bed first?” asked Hunk.

 _“No_ ,” said Shiro and Lance simultaneously. They looked at each other in surprise.

     “I don’t think it would be good for him to fall asleep in one place, and then wake up somewhere else,” explained Shiro.

     “And he said he didn’t want to be alone, so I promised I wouldn’t leave. I said I’d be here when he woke up,” added Lance. They would have been hard pressed to get Lance to move anyway, not when Keith was curled up so trustingly on him.

     “Let us know when he’s up,” said Shiro, and the way he gazed at Lance said _I’m trusting you with this. He’s precious, but I trust you._

Lance couldn’t help but puff up and sit up a little a straighter; all he ever wanted was to gain Shiro’s approval. To make him proud. He nodded in return. _I won’t let you down..._

With those parting words and their orders, everyone reluctantly left the room, gazing back sadly at Keith as they went.

  


 

 

 

Lance ended up mucking around on his phone, looking at the Altean vocabulary app Pidge had installed for him while Keith slept. He muttered Altean words under his breath, probably butchering their pronunciation, and ran a hand over Keith’s back again and again, hoping it was as soothing for Keith as it was for him.

Eventually Keith woke with a soft exhalation, stretching out like a cat and yawning widely. It was absurdly endearing, but then he reached up as if to scratch at the back of his neck, forcing Lance to catch him by the wrist to stop him.  

     “Hey, man,” Lance greeted softly when Keith’s eyes opened and fixed on him. He stroked his thumb over Keith’s pulse point.

     “Let’s, uh, not touch that for now,” he said, smiling weakly. “How you feeling?”

Keith sat up and shuffled over, pulling away from Lance’s light grip and letting the blanket fall to his waist. His departure left Lance’s lap cold. Keith didn’t meet Lance’s eye, and his cheeks flushed; he looked mortified.

     “Embarrassed,” Keith confirmed, which only made him cringe in on himself even more.

     “Oh… you have to tell the truth, don’t you?” said Lance, realization dawning.

Keith nodded. Considering the things Keith had told him earlier, that made perfect sense.

     “You haven’t done anything to be embarrassed about,” said Lance firmly, hesitantly reaching out a hand to hover above Keith’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure whether it was okay to touch him or not.

Keith answered that question by leaning into it like he couldn’t help himself.

     “Still… I’m used to being on my own. I—I don’t need you—or _anyone —_to—to _hold_ me. Especially if you just feel sorry for me—”

     “Keith,” Lance interrupted, “do you like it when we hug you? Do you like being held?”

Keith pouted. “Yes,” he admitted gruffly. “But I don’t need it—”

     “Yeah, you do,” said Lance, wrapping both arms around him to tug him in. He tucked Keith under his chin and rubbed his back.

     “You really do,” he murmured into his hair, and Keith melted into it, reaching up to hug back so carefully it made Lance’s heart ache.

     “Everyone needs to be held sometimes, Keith. It’s alright.”

There was none of the desperation from before as they held each other this time, just warmth and comfort. Lance was sorry to break it.

     “So the others came back while you were asleep,” he began. Keith stiffened against him.

     “Oh,” he whispered.

     “They wanted me to let them know when you’re up.”

     “Right…”

Lance squeezed Keith a fraction tighter. “Are you up to seeing everyone now? If you’re feeling better, everyone would really like to see you.”

     “I’m scared,” Keith admitted quietly.

     “Keith, everything you’re afraid of isn’t a problem. I promise, everyone just wants you to be okay,” replied Lance softly.

     “Are you sure?”  

     “Do you trust me?”  

Keith’s answer was immediate, and gratifyingly certain. “Yes.”

Lance pulled back from the hug to smile down at him.

     “Come on, then,” he said, taking Keith’s hand and leading him away.  

  


 

 

 

Lance kept a hold of Keith’s hand as they walked to the bridge. When they arrived at the door, he paused.

     “Remember, everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll be right beside you the whole time, and if it’s too overwhelming let me know and we’ll leave, okay?”

Keith squeezed his hand and took a tiny step closer to him, as if he could hide in Lance’s shadow.

     “Okay,” he whispered, and Lance smiled.

     “Atta boy."

The door swished open.

Shiro and Allura were pouring over some star charts on one side of the room, while Coran and Hunk were on the other, tinkering with electronics. Pidge was sat in her chair, typing up a storm. 

They all paused what they were doing and looked up when they heard the door.

     “ _Keith!_ ” everyone said, their relief palpable, and as one, they rushed over.

Lance heard Keith’s breath hitch as he shrank back behind Lance’s shoulder.

     “It’s okay,” Lance murmured to him.

Keith’s reaction made everyone slow their approach. Everyone except Allura.

     “Keith,” she repeated, walking right up to him and taking his free hand in hers. Eyes wide with concern, she cupped his face with her other hand, gently guiding him to look back at her.

     “Are you alright?” she asked.

     “I…” Keith’s eyes darted around, nervously sliding over everyone. They all stared back.

     “I think… I think maybe… maybe I will be?” he said hesitantly.

     “Keith, I’m so _so_ sorry we didn’t notice,” said Shiro, stepping forward. “ _Me_ especially, I should have.” Shiro blamed himself, Lance could hear the self-castigation in every word he said. He could see it in the sharpness of Shiro’s clenched jaw, and the tightness of his balled fists.

     “It’s fine,” Keith mumbled, “I was better that way. A better paladin, a better person—”

     “Keith!” gasped Pidge

     “ _No —! _” said Coran.

     “Don’t say that!” cried Hunk.

The unconsciously spoken order made Keith go rigid, and he let out a gasp of pain before his mouth snapped shut.   

     “ _Guys_ , no orders, it hurts him,” said Lance sternly.

     “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I take it back!” blurted Hunk hastily, wringing his hands in guilt as Keith let out a sigh of relief.

     “It hurts him?” murmured Pidge, sounding exactly as young as she was.

     “It’s the punishment setting they mentioned,” said Allura grimly. “Are you in pain right now, Keith?” she asked.

     “I have a headache, but it isn’t too bad. Muscles are sore and kind of cramped up too, I think from being so tense.”

     “We can give you some painkillers for that,” she replied, finally relinquishing Keith’s hand and stepping away to give him some of his personal space back, looking to Coran to confirm what she’d said.

     “We can, I’ll be back in a tick,” said Coran, rushing away to fetch it for him.

     “It’s not that bad…” said Keith weakly, seemingly embarrassed at having everyone fuss over him.   

     “Keith,” said Pidge, worrying her lip, “just now it hurt you when Hunk told you to do something. Is it always like that? I thought it would only activate if you purposely didn’t follow an order.”

Keith shook his head.

     “It hurts until I do whatever I’m told to,” he explained.

     “That’s _evil_ ,” said Hunk, shaking his head in disgust. “Just… hurts in general? Sorry to ask, but any details you can tell us will help us figure out how to shut it down,” he continued.

     “It sort of hurts... specifically? Depending on the order? Like, if you ask me to raise my arm, it’ll feel like it’s on fire until I do. When they ordered me not to tell you guys anything, it hurt if I even _thought_ about trying to give someone a clue. If I thought about saying something, it felt like—like swallowing needles. Or like red hot metal against my lips,” Keith cringed at everyone’s horrified expressions.

     “Sorry…” he mumbled, embarrassed from oversharing.

     “Keith,” said Shiro, voice hoarse with stress, “does that mean that every time we’ve trained over the past two movements, every—every order I’ve given you, every time I’ve asked you to do something…” Shiro couldn’t go on, because the look on Keith’s face, the way he couldn’t meet anyone’s eye, it confirmed Shiro’s worst fears.

That was the moment Coran returned.

     “Here you are,” he said, pressing a small bottle of pills into Keith’s palm with a kind smile. “One of these twice a day should make you more comfortable, do let me know if have any side effects.”

     “Thank you, Coran,” Keith mumbled.

     “Look, we have the remote, just while we’re still figuring out how to dismantle the hoktril completely, we can _at least_ change it to the lowest setting for punishment, right?” suggested Hunk.

     “Yes, we can do that. Myxrian script hasn’t changed much over the past ten thousand decaphoebs, I can input the command,” confirmed Coran.  

He nipped over to the area where he, Hunk, and Pidge had been working, picking up the small white control box from where they had been analyzing it. He turned around and flicked it open to reveal the rows of shiny buttons, pressing one that made a holographic keyboard pop up.

Keith reacted as if Coran were brandishing a loaded gun at him the moment the keyboard phased into existence. He jerked backwards so hard he hit the wall with a thump, wrenching himself away from Lance. His eyes were wild, like a cornered animal stuck between fight and flight.

     “Please, no. Don’t, please, _don’t_ ,” he whimpered as he started to breathe faster and faster.   

     “Coran, put it away,” barked Shiro.

Eyes wide with horrified understanding, Coran scrambled to do as Shiro had bade.

Keith pressed himself into the wall behind him like he wanted to squeeze the atoms of his body through it to disappear.

     “Don’t wanna die, don’t wanna die,” he chanted in a heartbreaking whisper, tears slipping down his cheeks.

     “He’s having a panic attack!” cried Hunk.

Oh no. Thinking back to the explanation they’d been given for the hoktril’s kill switch, Lance understood. Had Keith felt like this when it happened? _Terrified_ , but been unable to express it, trapped in his own body?

Keith slid down until he was sitting, legs too wobbly to hold up his own weight. He wrapped his arms around them and buried his face in his knees.

Lance quickly knelt down in front of him, feeling useless.

     “Keith, Coran didn’t mean to scare you, he just wanted to try and stop the hoktril from hurting you,” he tried, voice cracking. Lance’s hands hovered uselessly above Keith, unsure if touch would be welcome or not after he’d had pulled away from them so abruptly. Keith didn’t acknowledge what he’d said, he just curled up tighter.

     “S-sorry. Sorry,” he gasped.

Shiro stepped forward, and Lance shifted so he could take his place.

     “Hey, Keith?” said Shiro, so softly. He crouched low to put himself at Keith’s level “Would it be okay if I touched you?”

For a moment Keith just trembled, and then he gave a jerky nod, stuttering out a few more garbled sorrys.  

     “Shh, it’s okay, Keith. You have nothing to be sorry for,” said Shiro, laying a tentative hand on Keith’s shoulder.

     “I’m going to count, Keith. Do you think you can try breathing in for four, and then out for four for me? It’s okay if you can’t right away, I’ll keep counting. I’m not going anywhere. Okay, _in_ , two, three, four—”

It took a few minutes, but eventually Keith’s breathing slowed down.

     “There you go,” said Shiro with soft approval. “Will you look at us?”

Keith shook his head, keeping his face hidden.

     “Keith, I’ve had panic attacks before too, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Hunk sympathetically.

     “I’m so sorry, my boy,” said Coran, voice heavy with remorse.

     “Not your fault,” Keith mumbled, slowly uncurling. Lance’s heart really ached for Keith; he looked utterly miserable.

Shiro helped him back up and Keith stared resolutely at a spot on the floor.

     “I didn’t know I would… I guess I never realized. I’ve felt like that before, but the hoktril stopped me from—from—” Keith sighed, scrubbing a shaking arm over his eyes.

Lance thought about pulling Keith back from the airlock. How emotionless he’d been even though he’d been trembling, tears leaking out of his eyes. Had he been inwardly panicking? Had fire licked up his body, forcing him to stay standing? Not allowing him to crumble?

     “I’d really appreciate it if you could turn the pain setting down,” Keith mumbled, talking towards where Hunk, Pidge, and  Coran were standing. “But… we must have more important things to do than figuring out how to get this thing out of me, right? There must be missions we need to go on.”

     “Keith, you said it _hurts_ when you’re given orders. We aren’t doing _any_ missions with Voltron until we resolve this,” said Shiro.

     “But—but we’re the defenders of the universe, there are planets that need our help!” Keith protested.

Shiro shook his head sadly. “Keith, I can’t condone something that I _know_ will hurt you. I _won’t_.”

     “But I don’t mind, I mean, at least it’s making sure I’m doing my job right—”

     “Keith, _no._ ” Shiro’s tone brokered no argument.  

Keith bit his lip.

     “What’s the matter? Why are you pushing for this when you _know_ it will hurt you?” asked Allura softly.

     “What if it takes a long time to figure out?” Keith blurted.

     “Keith, we’re gonna do everything in our power to shut that thing down as soon as possible!” cried Pidge.

     “No—that’s not what—I mean, if it takes a long time, and I can’t go on missions or—or be helpful, what can I do?”

     “Keith, we don’t need you to do anything right now.” Allura intended for the words to be soothing, but they only served to make Keith more agitated.  

     “If you don’t need me then… then what’ll happen to me?”

     “What do you mean?”

Keith ran a hand through his hair nervously.

     “If—if you don’t need me anymore, if I’m not—not _useful_ , you could find someone else to pilot Red. If I’m dead weight why should you let me stay?”

     “Keith—”

     “I—I know it’s selfish but I don’t wanna leave. I want to _stay_ , but I know I need to pull my weight, so you can just give me orders, I don’t mind, the—the _thing_ makes me better at following them anyway—”

     “ _Keith,_ ” Shiro repeated, stepping even closer to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

     “That’s not true at all,” he said. “You’re one of the best people I know, that thing didn’t make you better.” Shiro sounded so genuine, so _earnest_ , that it was painful.

The way his face fell when when Keith only shrugged in response was agonizing.  

     “Shiro is right,” chimed in Allura. “The Red Lion chose _you_ for a reason, you aren’t replaceable, Keith. And even if someone else _could_ pilot the Red Lion, you would still be welcome here. You will _always_ be welcome here.”

     “Are… are you sure?” Keith sounded so small. So painfully unsure.

     “Keith, you’re our _friend,_ ” blubbered Hunk, looking like he about to burst into tears.  

     “The mission, it’s important, but _you’re_ important too, Keith,” added Pidge tearfully.

The cautiously hopeful look on Keith’s face… it was a start.

Lance stepped up beside Keith and took his hand.

Healing what had been hurt… it was going to take more than a single conversation, but with the way everyone was rallying around Keith, Lance had a feeling that they were on the right track. Lance cleared his throat.

     “Keith, do you want a group hug?” he asked.

     “Yes,” Keith replied automatically, to everyone’s surprise except Lance’s. Even Keith himself blinked in bemusement at his own honesty, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, but before he could say anything else, the rest of the team was on him.

Allura tucked herself against his side, while Shiro wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Pidge threw herself at him, hugging him around the waist from behind, Coran drew close to set a hand on his shoulder, while Hunk wrapped his arms around everyone.

Through all that, Keith managed to keep ahold of Lance’s hand, and he caught Lance’s eye from where his head peeped up above the tangle of arms surrounding him.

He looked like he was trying to glower, but couldn’t quite manage it because he’d ended up exactly where he wanted to be.

     “Keith can only tell the truth at the moment, guys, and while we definitely shouldn’t take advantage of it, I thought this was appropriate,” he said.     

Keith used his grip on Lance’s hand to drag him in too.

     “Good call, Lance,” Shiro whispered to him.

The group hug was interrupted by a shrill beep from the main communication panel; someone was hailing them.

Everyone disentangled reluctantly, and Coran strode over and pressed a few buttons, securing the signal and establishing a link.  

The main holoscreen lit up above them, and it showed a group of Myxrians. Keith’s breath audibly hitched at the sight of them, which had everyone reacting defensively. Lance used the grip he still had on Keith’s hand to tug him back and shield him from view with his body. Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro all did the same thing, stepping in front of Keith protectively. 

These Myxrians weren’t wearing those creepy white robes. The clothes they wore were tattered and patched, and seemed to come in every color _except_ white. Unlike the ones they had just dealt with, _these_ Myxrians did not have snow white skin. They were still pale, but with a yellow tinge and looked as if it might be the Myxrian equivalent of a tan. One of them them stepped forward, tired bags under their eyes and a wicked scar in the middle of their forehead that made it look as if they’d been shot in the head point blank. And survived...

     “Is this Voltron?” they asked wearily. Their voice had none of the airiness of the Myxrians they’d met planetside. Lance suddenly realized that the Myxrian that had addressed them wasn’t the only one with a crater-like forehead scar…

     “Yes, we are Voltron. I am Princess Allura of Altea. Who are you?” asked Allura, tipping her chin up imperiously.

     “We are the resistance.”

     “I’m sorry, but what do you mean by _resistance?_ Are you a resistance against the Galra?” asked Allura.

     “The Galra?” the Myxrian snorted, and shook their head. “No. We are the resistance against the tyranny of the Hoktril on Myxria.”

Shiro and Allura exchanged a glance.

     “The hoktril,” repeated Shiro, “we have just been made aware of its existence. Can you tell us about more about it?”

     “We did not contact you to chat about hoktril,” they said sternly. “We are here to broker a deal. We understand that you are at war with the Galra, but we wish for you to take your quarrel with them elsewhere. What do you want?”

There was confusion all around.

     “Excuse me?” said Allura.

     “We wish for you to leave, and allow the Galra to seize Myxria.”

     “But… but you _are_ Myxrian. The Galra, they might destroy your planet!” cried Allura. While everyone in the control room of the castleship looked shocked and horrified at the idea, every yellow-tinged Myxrian face that stared back at them just looked resigned.

     “We are well aware of that, and it is a risk we are willing to take. A Galra invasion is the only way to depose the current regime and possibly free our afflicted brothers and sisters. So I ask you again, Princess Allura of Altea, what do you want? Slaves? Access to hoktril technology?” They sounded exhausted. _All_ these Myxrians looked weary, like the exhaustion hanging over them was bone-deep, and had been there so long that it was just a part of them now.

     “We don’t want either of those things!” cried Allura, horrified at the suggestion. “We do not keep _slaves_ ,” she spat, “and the hoktril is utterly _barbaric_ , we want no part of it.” 

     “How about gac? Or else we have some stores of hexamite—”

     “Hang on a minute,” said Shiro, raising his voice. Everyone immediately snapped to attention, looking at him. Shiro had that effect on people. “Do you know how to _remove_ a hoktril? Safely?” he asked.

The leader’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and several of the Myxrians touched the scars on their foreheads…

_Oh..._

     “Yes…”

Keith’s hand tightened its grip on Lance’s.

     “What is your name?’ asked Allura.

     “I am Saresh.”  

     “Saresh,” Allura repeated. “I would like to extend an invitation for you and your people to meet with us here in my castle. I think we could be allies. If there is tyranny on Myxria, propagated by hoktril, Voltron would help you end it.”

     “Why would you help us?” asked Saresh suspiciously.

     “They put a hoktril in one of my paladins without my knowledge or permission,” Allura’s quietly outraged tone made it clear how she felt about that. “We want it removed as soon as possible.”

Saresh cast his gaze beyond Allura, taking in the way they’d all protectively placed themselves in front of Keith.

     “A newer model? Base of the skull, with automatic punishment settings?” they murmured questioningly.

Allura nodded tightly. Saresh’s expression seemed to soften ever so slightly...

     “We will confer, and we will be in contact,” said Saresh, and then they cut the connection.

     “Pidge—”

     “On it! Don’t worry, we were connected for a while, I should be able to triangulate the signal to figure out where they are,” said Pidge before Shiro even finished the thought, heading directly over to her console to begin tracking where the call had come from.

     “Good. We’ll let them approach us again first, we don’t want to scare them off, I’d just rest easier if we knew where they were.”

     “As would I,” agreed Allura.  

She turned her attention back to Keith, walking over to him until she was right in front of him, reaching up to hold his face in her palms. Once upon a time this would have made Lance seethe with jealousy, but Allura’s touch was as tender as if Keith were a child, completely empty of even a hint of suggestion.

     “You’re very important to all of us, Keith,” she told him. She stared at him for a beat, before ruffling his hair as she pulled away.

     “I think you should go see the Red Lion,” she continued. “He knew before any of us did, and he was worried for you.”

     “I’d like that,” Keith replied.  

     “Do you want me to come with?” asked Lance, aiming for casual, but coming out concerned.

     “Yes, please,” answered Keith, squeezing his hand.

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Keith now**

 

 

Even though the hoktril wasn’t controlling his every move anymore, wasn’t doling out fiery pain to keep him in line, Keith could still feel it’s influence under his skin, just waiting to hear an order so it could sear him into submission. Over the past two movements it had left its imprint on his nervous system, _trained_ him to expect that any action he undertook would be met with a correcting fire.

He was still afraid that his body would shut down on him again if they left him alone, trapping him in a terrifying state of stasis where he was awake but paralyzed unless someone needed him for something, or the hoktril decided he needed to be out of his room to keep up appearances.  

Lance’s hand holding his gave him something else to focus on other than the niggling sensation of phantom heat in his veins and phantom needles under his skin. The warmth of his palm held the fear of that terrible forced stillness at bay.

He could hardly believe that Lance of all people had been so gentle with him. So understanding, so _comforting_.

And it wasn’t just Lance, Keith was beyond grateful to _everyone_ on the castleship; he’d never had his worst expectations of people thwarted quite so thoroughly before. Just _thinking_ about how he’d behaved, how vulnerable and weak he’d been, made him cringe in shame.   

Even though everyone was being so patient, so kind, it was still a little overwhelming. He still half expected Allura or Coran to come to their senses and realize that they had no business harboring a _Galra_ on board their castleship, particularly one that couldn’t even perform the function which had permitted his entry into the castleship in the first place.

What good was a Red Paladin that Shiro refused to give orders to for fear of hurting him?

     “I can hear you fretting from here, you know,” said Lance as they walked hand in hand down to Red’s hangar.

     “Everything’s gonna be fine,” he said with that easy confidence that used to drive Keith crazy, but just felt reassuring now.

     “ _Red,_ ” Keith breathed when they arrived, breath hitching with worry when he didn’t feel Red’s comforting presence in the back of his mind like he usually did. Just because the other people in the castleship seemed to accept his new limitations, didn’t mean his lion would.

He’d almost killed himself to prove that he was worthy of piloting Red, would Red still think he was worthy like this?

     “I was here earlier when they were getting ready to reboot him again. In the cockpit you just need to slot a bit back into the control panel. You’ll know when you see it,” Lance explained.

Keith nodded in acknowledgement.

     “Do you want me to come in with you?” asked Lance.

Fear curdled in his belly, but Keith was sick of being afraid. If he let fear control him it would be tantamount to letting the Myxrians win even if they _did_ manage to get the hoktril out of his head. The spirit of what they’d wanted would be achieved, and Keith didn’t want to give them what they wanted.

He didn’t want them to win.

He squared his shoulders and let go of Lance’s hand.

     “I got this.”

Red was laying down with her great head resting on her paws, mouth lolling open.

Keith approached, climbing into Red’s mouth, and then up the stairs into his cockpit, heart hammering away in his chest.

He’d never felt alone like this in Red’s cockpit before. There was an empty spot in his chest that Red was meant to occupy. To warm.  

He spotted the part Lance had told him about and made his way over to the control panel on shaky legs. It looked wrong without the lights on, leached of color in a way that reminded him of Myxria. Pushing that thought away because it would lead him nowhere good, Keith sat in the pilot seat.

He reached for the part sticking out, fingers trembling with trepidation.

What if Red rejected him? Would Allura change her tune about him belonging here?

Well… stalling wasn’t going to change that.

Keith took a deep breath and pushed the piece into place, rendering the control panel whole.

The effect was instantaneous; Red came to life around him, flooding the cockpit, as well as Keith’s mind, with a rush of light and warmth.

Red’s presence settled in behind his ribs, fluttering a happy rhythm beside his heart, and it was like returning a piece of himself that he’d been aching for. The relief of it make him gasp out loud.

 _Mine._ Red whispered to him, smoothing the rough edges of hurt in Keith’s head. Where the fire of the hoktril maimed, Red’s fire only soothed.

He felt Red gather him up in the mental equivalent of a hug, felt Red _growl_ at the foreign, robotic, programming of the hoktril in his head, _furious_ at what had been done to _his_ Paladin.

 _Yours?_ Keith’s traitorous brain whispered, small and insecure, like a frightened child.

 _Yes,_ ** _mine._** Red confirmed, uncharacteristically soft.

When he stumbled out of Red much later, Lance was still waiting for him, sitting cross-legged and literally twiddling his thumbs. The surge of affectionate fondness Keith felt for Lance in that moment took him by surprise, but then the other boy scrambled to his feet, staring at Keith with concerned eyes that were as blue as his lion, and Keith’s surprise suddenly seemed disingenuous.

How could he not be fond?

     “Are you okay, Keith?” asked Lance, reaching for Keith’s hand again. Keith gave it to him.

     “I think I will be.”

  
  


 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative titles I was tossing up between using were: _Obedience_ and _Control_. Decided to go with _The Gift_ because it seemed more ambiguous? Did I make the right choice? lol
> 
> I'm a little bit late, but this was written for the Keith mini-bang 2k18. The awesome art was made by [leggydeco](https://leggydeco.tumblr.com/), and you should show them some love for it [here](https://leggydeco.tumblr.com/post/179758237755/here-is-the-art-half-i-did-for-the-keithbabybang).
> 
> This whole fic feels to me like the beginning of a longer story?? I might write more for it, but we'll see how it goes, I have a bunch of other fics I need to finish first
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://greenteafiend.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Also, there is more [art!!](http://sarapsys.tumblr.com/post/180431342481/so-i-was-only-actually-planning-to-do-four-slots) Check it out, it's really good!


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